The Day After That
by Set and Drift
Summary: Sam leaps into Linny Bell, a close friend of Beth's, and he has a week to save her life before Dirk kills her. The only solution Sam and Al can find is to take her on the run. Note: Pre-MI. Will post new chapters every few days.
1. Chapter 1

August 1980

Seattle, WA

"Linny? You still there?"

Sam blinked to bring in the rest of his surroundings only to find himself on the phone with...someone. Some woman. If there was one part of the leap he truly hated...

"Oh...boy."

"Linny?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm still here," Sam said uncertainly. "I just, ah, dropped the phone."

"Good, 'cause I don't know what to do," the woman replied. She sounded tense and worried and Sam was still clueless about what the crisis was.

"Uh, about what?"

There was a deathly silence. "Linny..." Now she sounded desperate.

"I mean, I don't know."

The pause was back, but it was shorter this time. "I guess I'll go with him. Things'll just get worse if I don't, you know?"

He moved to sit in a chair behind him and gripped the phone receiver more tightly. "Worse how?"

"In every way imaginable," she returned. "Linny, you're not having doubts about anything, are you? I mean, you're still going to support me, aren't you?" The desperation was back and Sam began to feel more and more uncomfortable by the minute. This woman needed help and she needed it from someone who knew what was going on. "You're my best friend and I really need you now. Heck, you're my **only** friend in Seattle."

_Seattle?_ "Of course I'll help you with...of course I'll help you," Sam fumbled.

"Is there any way I can come over there tomorrow morning? I just need to get out of the house for a while before-"

Sam tensed although he wasn't entirely certain why. "Are you okay?"

"I have to go. He's home. I'll call you tomorrow morning.

Before Sam could get another word in edgewise, she hung up the phone. He sat in the chair for a few moments with a dumfounded look on his face. Over the past five years, Sam had learned to trust his instincts regarding his leaps and the people he came across and something told him this woman was in trouble. If only he knew who she was...

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

Admiral Albert Calavicci walked alongside Dr. Verbena Beeks, straining to keep up with the pace she had adopted. She had to be worried to be flying through the halls like this.

"What do you mean 'frantic'?" he asked as they slowed at the elevator.

"I mean frantic. Hysterical. Very upset," she replied tersely. "Do you need a dictionary?"

Al mentally withdrew from her sharp words; it wasn't something he was used to encountering from her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly before he could interject. The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. "He was just so upset and was just rattling on and on about someone killing someone else. It's not the type of thing I like to hear at the start of a leap, especially considering Sam could be the one being killed."

At her words, Al felt a weight on his chest that seemed to make it hard to breathe. "Killing someone?" he echoed.

Verbena cast him a sidelong glance. "Ziggy would have told you if he was in danger, right?"

"Assuming she knew - knows," he corrected himself.

The psychiatrist laid a comforting hand on his arm. "Do you want to check on Sam first?"

"Ziggy? Do you have a fix on Sam yet?"

"Negative, Admiral," the computer replied sweetly.

He wiped his face. "I guess that makes my decision for me, doesn't it? Ziggy, Sam's not in any danger, is he?"

"I predict only a 0.3% chance that Doctor Beckett is in any perilous situation."

"See?" Verbena asked, taking his arm. "Relax."

"Oh, sure."

The elevator deposited them at the main floor and the pair walked past Gooshie and Tina without comment, heading for the Waiting Room.

The leapee was arguing with a nurse. Al stopped just inside the room to study her and gather any information he could for Ziggy. It was a woman. She looked young, maybe only 19 or 20, and was about 5'4" with short blonde hair and fiery blue eyes. In addition, the passionate manner in which she was arguing with Verbena's staff brought a few thoughts to Al's mind which would have been thoroughly inappropriate to voice.

"I'm telling you, somebody's in trouble and I don't even remember **who**!" she was saying, her hair swinging over her shoulders as she expressed her frustrations.

"I'm sorry, sir, but-"

"**Sir**?"

"Ma'am," the nurse corrected herself without hesitation.

"What the hell kind of place is this?"

"Maybe I can help you answer that," Al interjected calmly. Once her attention was diverted to him, the nurse took her opportunity to slip out the door behind him. Verbena stood to his right slightly behind him.

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who are you? For that matter, who am **I**?" She sat down hard on the table in the center of the room and, for the first time, Al noticed she was shaking. Either way, she wasn't letting her fear show in any obvious manner and his respect slipped up another notch.

"My name's Al. I'm in charge around here and I heard you were making trouble for my staff." He smiled to take the sting out of the words.

"Finally," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. She cleared her throat. "I don't know why I'm here or where here is, but I have to get back. It's a matter of life and death!"

"Your life?" Al asked before he could help himself.

She stopped and her face sported an expression he'd seen on Sam's many times. Swiss-cheese. "I don't think so..." She shook her head. His soft presence appeared to be calming her down as well, but it also seemed that without her anger to hide behind, she was becoming more ill at ease with every passing second.

Al took a few steps closer to her. "It's okay," he soothed carefully. "Nobody's going to hurt you here. We just want to help you."

"Please," she whispered. "It's important. He's going to kill her."

"Who?"

"She won't listen to me. The last time she came by he'd broken a rib..."

Al gritted his teeth. "We'll help her, but we need to know where to find her. Is she a coworker? A friend from a club or a church?"

"You can't help her - she won't listen to anyone, not even me. I'm the only friend she's got and she still acts like a frightened animal around me."

Al put a hand on her arm. "Can you tell me your name?"

"It's Lydia. But everyone calls me Linny." She frowned. "I...I can't remember my last name!"

"Calm down, honey," he said evenly.

"Honey?"

Verbena sighed. Al wasn't exactly known for being politically correct when it came to women. He used pet names like there was no tomorrow and an outsider may have thought he was being disrespectful. Those who worked with him knew better. However, in situations like this, it often exacerbated the matter.

"Linny," he corrected automatically, casting an apologetic glance towards the psychiatrist. "It's okay."

She shook off his hand. "No it's not! What's going on here?"

"Can you tell me your friend's name? I promise you, we only want to help her."

"I..."

Al cut her off again before she could become more upset about what she couldn't remember. "Don't worry, if you can't remember, we'll find some way to help her anyway. Linny, this person who wants to hurt her... Is she in some kind of trouble, or...?"

She was silent again, thinking. "I'm sorry, I really can't recall. All I remember is that she needed my help."

"Okay, you did fine. I'm going to go see if I can find her and we'll let you know. I'll make sure she's taken care of."

He turned to go, but Linny grabbed his arm. "Be gentle with her, okay? She can't, that is to say I don't think she can take too much more trauma in her life. When I first met her she was strong and happy and now..." She released her grip with an effort. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Al nodded. "We'll take care of her."

August 1980

Seattle, WA

Sam was fixing himself some dinner later that evening when Al stepped through the Imaging Chamber Door, a disturbed expression on his face and a cigar twitching back and forth between restless fingers.

"Hey, Sam."

"Boy, you look like I feel," Sam told him as he put some chicken in the oven and set the timer.

"That bad, huh?" Al grinned slightly. "What's eating you?"

"I leaped in on the phone with...some woman. And I just have a really bad feeling about her, Al. I think she's in some bad trouble."

"Lydia agrees."

Sam opened the refrigerator door and fished out a coke. "Who?"

"Linny. She's the woman you've leaped into."

"Right, yeah, she called me Linny."

Al nodded and pulled out the handlink. "Verbena sent me in to talk to her - she was really climbing the walls. She kept saying someone was going to kill her friend."

"Kill her?" Sam repeated in amazement. "Who?"

Al shrugged. "Dunno yet. We're working on it."

"First thing's first."

"What?"

Sam shook his head. "Who am I?"

"Oh, right. Your name is Linny Bell and you've lived here in Seattle for about six years now. You work at a local gift shop and are working on an Associate's Degree in English."

"How old?"

"Uh, you're 21 years old."

"Okay," Sam said, leaning against the counter, "and you're sure that Linny's not the reason I'm here?"

"Yeah, doesn't seem like anything happens anytime soon to her. At least, nothing that made any kind of records for Ziggy to track down. At any rate, my gut tells me we need to find this woman, and fast, before anything happens to her."

"I agree."

"So does Ziggy."

Sam's brow was furrowed. "So now that we're in accordance, how do we do that?"

Al checked the 'link. "Well, Ziggy can't find anyone in her immediate probability matrix that seems to be in any kind of trouble, so it must not be a coworker or anyone Linny has professional contact with. Must be **just** a friend. Not someone she sees in any other area of her life."

"Great. What do we have to do, wait for her to call again?"

Al sighed. "We could check the phone records, but that'll take a while."

Sam's expression became slightly hopeful. "We could get to work on it now."

Al entered in the appropriate code on the terminal and studied the readout. "She's working on it. In the meantime, she could call again."

"I doubt it."

Al cocked his head. "Why do you say that?"

"Before she hung up, and rather abruptly, I might add, she said that 'he was home'. I don't think I'm jumping to any great conclusion to say that we're dealing with a case of domestic violence."

Fire sparked in Al's eyes. "Damn, I **hate** jerks like that!" he ranted, chewing on his cigar.

"Me, too," Sam agreed, considerably more restrained. A dismayed expression crossed his face and Al moved to study him.

"You okay, Sam?"

The leaper took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's just that whenever I have to deal with this kind of thing, it reminds me of-"

"I know, kid," Al said quietly.

Sam closed his eyes a moment, and then opened them up again, all trace of despair erased from his expression. "So how are we going to find her? The less time she has to stay in a war-zone, the better."

"Right. Well..." Al trailed off as the sound of someone knocking gently on the back door came to them. "Was that what I thought it was?" he asked.

"I thought I heard something," Sam confirmed. He went to the back door and turned on the outside light. The silhouette of a woman darkened the curtain draped over the glass and Al pulled up the handlink.

"Looks like this may be easier than we'd thought," the admiral commented.

Sam just nodded as he unbolted the door and opened it. Sometime after Al's arrival it had started to rain and a woman stood at the back door, drenched from head to toe.

"I'm sorry for dropping in," she said in a trembling voice, "but he went out for the evening and I just had to..." She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist. "He took the keys to the car with him so I ran all the way over-" Whatever torrent she'd been holding back finally broke free and she started crying.

Sam glanced back at his partner and Al raised his eyebrows in question. Sam reached out the doorway and took her by the arm, drawing her into the house. Al was puzzled by the concerned glances the scientist was giving him.

Until he looked at the woman.

"Oh no..." he whispered. "Beth."


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I should mention this story was written back in 1998. I wrote quite a number of stories back then and have just recently started playing with writing again, so I thought I would post some of my older stories here as well. I never start posting until a story is complete, so rest assured you won't get stuck reading something that will never be finished. I'll try to post a new chapter every few days or so.

Thanks for reading and I appreciate all reviews: positive or negative.

Ann Marie

August 1980

Seattle, WA

Al went white as Sam led Beth to the couch and urged her to sit down. "Let me get you a towel or something, okay? I'll be right back," he told her.

Sam went into the back part of the home to the linen closet and started rummaging through it. Al stepped up beside him.

"Al? You okay?" Sam whispered, looking at his partner carefully.

"Sam, I...God, I don't even know how to feel! Angry, upset, scared, I don't know." Al kept his eyes glued to the woman on the couch. They were facing her back and she kept running her fingers through her wet hair. It was considerably longer than it had been when they'd last seen her and it fell a good way down her back.

"I know this is hard, Al, but I need you to tell me what happens to her." Sam pulled out a large towel and hid behind the open door so Beth couldn't see him.

For the first time, Al turned to him, his eyes glistening in the pale light. There was a blank look on his face. Sam motioned to the handlink, hanging limp in his hand. "Right," he murmured, his lips barely parting when he spoke. "Well, in the original history, that flea bag lawyer-" He stopped.

"What?" Al was staring at the 'link in amazement. His lips traced one word: 'no'. "Al, what?"

"He...beats her to death." He clenched his jaw.

"When?" Sam prompted.

"A week." Al looked back up at her. "I was in one hell and she was in another," he said quietly, his eyes filled with sorrow.

Sam dropped his gaze for a moment. "What did you say today's date was?"

He drew in a heavy breath and consulted the 'link again. "It's August 2, 1980."

"She married him in '69," Sam said to himself. "She's been hanging around a disaster area for over a decade."

"I don't get it," Al said, still staring. "She's a bright, intelligent woman. Why would she put up with crap from a nozzle like Dirk?" He paused for a heartbeat. "Sam, I'd give anything to be with her through this."

Sam nodded, eyeing his friend. "I'll take care of her, Al. We'll keep her safe."

"I know you will, Sam." He took a deep breath. "You'd better get back out there or she'll come looking for you."

"I can't believe he'd kill her," Sam muttered, closing the door to the closet.

"Linny was really afraid for her. She told me to be gentle with her, that she was starting to fall apart. I guess she just couldn't handle it any longer. Maybe she said something or did something and that was it and he k-killed her."

Sam nodded and then walked back out into the room. "Here you go, Beth," he said, wrapping the towel around her shoulders. "Can I get you something to drink? Maybe some hot tea or coffee?" He frowned as she flinched. "What's wrong?"

She leaned back. "Nothing."

Sam glanced down and noticed she was cradling her wrist. He knelt down beside her. "Let me see that," he instructed.

"Since when were you a doctor?" she asked, not sharply, but with a worried edge to her tone.

"Let me see." Sam took her hand in both of his and she bit her lip.

"It's just sprained."

"That **bastard**!" Al fumed, standing just behind Sam. "How could he do that to her?"

"Let me get you some ice," Sam said, rising to his feet.

"No, Linny...I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

Sam looked back down at her.

"Talk to her, Sam," Al urged in a tight voice. "Don't let her to back to that shyster!"

"Beth, don't you think it's time to leave him for good? He's just going to keep hurting you and you're going to end up in the hospital. Or worse."

Beth rose to her feet, a trapped look in her eyes. "No," she said desperately. "I can't."

Al drew up next to her. "Hon, listen to him. He knows what he's talking about. **Please**."

"Beth..."

"Linny, you don't understand!"

"Beth, you can't possibly think you have a marriage to go back to!" Sam said urgently as she took a step for the door.

She spun to face him, still slowly backing her way towards the door. "I'm not an idiot. I know he doesn't love me."

"But you love him," Sam said in flat tones.

"Not anymore," she said, surprising him. Al wiped at his eyes. "I stopped loving him years ago."

"Then why are you going back? Is it because you're afraid for your life? We'll get the police involved, we'll-"

"**No**!" she cried. "I can't leave him!"

"Why?" Sam and Al said together.

"I just **can't**!" Her tone became more frenzied as she moved towards the exit. "Please, Linny, don't say anything to anyone, okay? I'm fine, really. I'll be fine." With that, she turned and ran out the door, dropping the towel on the ground as she went.

"Beth!" Sam called out to her, but she vanished as quickly as she had come. He retrieved the towel and reentered the small house, shutting and locking the door behind him. Al stood motionless behind the couch. "I'm sorry, Al. I tried," he said in subdued tones.

Al's voice matched his. "It's not your fault, kid. She... I don't know." He grimaced. "I don't understand."

Sam collapsed on the couch. "Neither do I. She says she doesn't love him and she knows he can't possibly love her... What other reason could she possibly have to stay with him?"

"Fear?" Al suggested.

"That can be a hard thing to overcome after so long. Where do I even start?"

"I don't know, Sam, but you have to get her away from him. You have to!" Al's hands flew about in anxiety. "Drag her away bodily if it's the only option; it's got to be better than...than... Than **that**!" He gestured fiercely in the direction Beth had run off.

Sam rubbed his eyes. "Okay, Al, can you get me a bio?"

The familiar sounds of the handlink resounded in the stillness. It was a comforting racket. Then Al started reading. "After they...married in '69, they moved into Dirk's home in San Diego. About a year after marrying the jerk, Beth left the Navy. She seems to have left nursing altogether as far as we can tell. In less than a year, that shyster took away her life, Sam!" he cried out in anger, looking up.

Sam opened his eyes and swallowed back a sigh. "Al, I need you to keep together for me."

Al met his friend's gaze unsteadily. "I know, Sam. I - I'm sorry. It's just that I feel so helpless seeing...her like that and not being able to do anything about it."

"I know, but perhaps that's for the best for now. I know it's hard-"

"Sam, you're my friend and I'm not trying to start an argument, but no, you don't know. And I'm not just talking about Beth. Either time. I'm talking about all your leaps - all those people I've come to care for. I can never do anything for them. They never even knew I was there."

Sam reached out a hand, then aborted the gesture before Al noticed. _I knew, Al_.

"And...when a leap like this comes along, with someone I already..." He trailed off and cleared his throat. "It just intensifies that tenfold."

Sam was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry. I...I never thought about it like that before."

Al dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. "Aw, Sam, I just...I don't want anything to happen to her."

"We won't let it."

Al offered him a small smile. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "I know you won't."

"So what happened after she got out of nursing?"

The expression on his face was resigned. "Well, they stayed in San Diego for another three months, then moved out here so **he** could start a partnership. There's almost no records of her here beyond her mere existence. Except maybe a few hospital visits." Al's jaw clenched. "Then, in a week, she dies. He gets off in the clear. Not a damned scratch." He muttered something harshly under his breath.

Sam couldn't understand what he said, but he figured it wasn't anything civil to begin with. "Where do they find her?"

Al swallowed audibly. "In her house. Linny later testified that he - beat her and then she... Sam, I can't." He rubbed his face. "I can't..." he whispered, a faint echo, or maybe a plea. Sam didn't say anything; he just waited, watching carefully. He said he couldn't, but Sam knew he would. For her and for himself. After a moment, Al took a ragged breath and only then did Sam realize he'd previously stopped breathing entirely.

_That's it. Come on..._ Sam thought, a silent support team of one, but remained silent.

"He, uh, left the house and Beth called Linny from the bedroom. By the time she got there, Beth was - dead from internal injuries. Linny found her on the floor by the phone." He said the last as if in a rush to read the report and be done with it.

Sam gave Al another few seconds to compose himself. He could see another apology building in his partner's eyes, but he just smiled and shook his head. Five years of trial - they could practically carry on an entire conversation non-verbally. "The first objective," Sam said calmly, trying to pull Al from the emotional spiral he was in onto a more logical path, "is to get her out of the house before anything more happens. Legalities are secondary to that."

"Not if she won't go," Al said. His voice was still too quiet, but at least the tremors were gone.

_He accomplished more in San Diego than either of us probably thought at the time,_ Sam thought to himself. _If he hadn't let her go, at least a little, this could be that much harder for both of us._

"Then he comes for her and, legally, there's not a thing you can do about it," Al continued, his voice sounding stronger as he went. Whether that was due to anger or a recovery from his earlier sorrow was anyone's guess.

"Al, you know her better than me... We have to go at this from her angle. We have to get her to agree with us, one step at a time. What should I do?"

Al faltered slightly at the question and Sam thought he could fathom why. He knew Al and he knew his solution had been to take all his anger and pain and hide it away in some unlocked part of his mind - or maybe even his heart. Al may recover quickly, but he healed slowly.

Al took a long drag on his almost-forgotten cigar and began to pace the room. "I don't know. She bases a lot of her actions on emotion. She operates from the heart; when she arrives at a decision, it's governed more by how she feels about a situation."

Sam stood as the timer in the kitchen went off. "What time do I have to be in to work tomorrow?"

"Ah...9:00."

"And Dirk?"

Al cast him a knowing glance. "8:00."

"Good. Tomorrow morning, we get to work. In the meantime-" Sam pulled out his dinner and grinned mischievously "-you hungry?"

Al smirked.

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep.

He couldn't think.

Al Calavicci wandered around his office like a caged animal, picking up a file and putting it back, turning on his computer and then staring at the monitor until the screen saver came on, pulling out his writing pad and then forgetting what he wanted to write.

He was a mess.

_Okay, Calavicci, you know better than to let your emotions get the better of you. Eight years in hell didn't teach you that?_

Sure, eight years. Except she'd been in hell for three years longer than that. Five if you counted the agony he put her through after he'd been shot down.

"So?" he demanded of the empty air. "What the hell am I supposed to do about that now?"

_Help her._ The answer was clear as day. The course of action wasn't.

He sighed and sank down in his chair. "How?"


	3. Chapter 3

August 1980

Seattle, WA

It was hard to see at first. The light under the bathroom door revealed that he was nearby, but it still took Al a moment to find her. She didn't have any lights on in the bedroom.

Beth sat on the edge of the bed facing away from him towards the window. Typical Seattle weather, the clouds obscured most of the stars and almost no light shone on her face. Still, she stared at the sky intently, as if it held all the secrets of the world. Her arms were curled around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She'd since pulled her hair back into a loose bun that was already starting to work its way free.

Al moved to the other side of the bed, closed his eyes as if to rally his strength, and knelt down in front of her. He wasn't entirely certain what good he could hope to do here or why he'd come. He told himself it was to gather information, to help Sam help her, but a deeper part of him knew it was more than that. Whatever his secrets were, he was keeping them even from himself.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

She continued to look past him, but he was more interested in what he could read in those eyes than what she was looking at. There were no tears, no sorrow, not even the fear he'd seen there earlier that evening. Instead, there was...nothing. She'd learned to shut herself off from the world, he realized. It was something he'd learned long ago out of necessity and, it seemed, so had she.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, breathing in the cigar smoke as if it was oxygen. Then he noticed a bruise on her right cheek he was sure hadn't been there before as well as a mark on her bottom lip where blood had finally clotted.

He blinked back tears and hatred and his hand crushed the cigar in his palm.

"Beth, honey, I'm sorry. I should have checked this when Sam leaped into San Diego in 1969, but I..." He hesitated. She was motionless. "I was afraid," he finished, ashamed at his own words. But they had to be spoken. He had to be honest with her, even if she couldn't hear him, and he had to be honest with himself. "I was selfish. I didn't want to know if you'd been happy with him, so I just didn't check. And I should have. Maybe I could've convinced Sam that-"

"How are you doing, Beth?" Dirk asked suddenly from behind her.

It was the first time Al had seen the man and the sudden rage that filled his vision surprised even himself. He rose automatically and stood in front of her as if to protect her. "Don't touch her!" he cried, more a plea than a demand.

Dirk passed through him and knelt down exactly where he had been. He touched her lower lip gently and smiled at her. "You'll be fine," he informed her in tones intended to soothe a distraught woman. She didn't appear distraught, but either way she didn't react.

"No thanks to you!" All he had were words, even if they couldn't be heard, and, if there was one thing Al had, it was an extensive vocabulary. He intended to use it.

"You should be more careful," Dirk continued, removing his hand.

Al was speechless, but only for an instant. "**She** should be more... **You** should be careful, you nozzle!"

Al extended a few choice phrases, almost missing Beth's whispered comment: "I know."

"Oh, no, honey..."

Dirk stroked her cheek. "Oh well, at the very worst I just won't be able to kiss you for a few days, huh?" He kept massaging the bruise until she looked up and smiled weakly. He rose and kissed her on top of her head. Al stiffened. "We should get some sleep."

"I'm not really tired. I thought I'd read a while in the den until-"

"Beth!" The word came out sharply and she flinched. "I said we'd better get some sleep. Do you think I'm wrong?"

"Oh, I know bait when I hear it," Al fretted, gazing at her.

"No." It sounded almost like a confession.

"Besides, we have that trip in a week. Haven't had a vacation in a while. We'll both enjoy ourselves then, right?"

"About that...I was thinking that..."

"You were thinking what?" he asked. He was deceptively calm.

"Careful, Beth," Al warned, tensing, but she'd already seen through his false interest.

She stared into Dirk's eyes a moment. "Nothing. Good night."

He held her gaze an instant longer, then grabbed her wrist so abruptly that Al jumped. It was the same wrist, he noted, that had been bothering her earlier, but she didn't react as if in pain. Her small sound of protest was muffled as he kissed her. Then he let her go. Relief shone in her eyes as he slid under the covers. She did likewise, facing away from him, all unknowingly, towards Al. Dirk rested a hand on her hip and a flash of pain reflected briefly on her face as she stared out the window.

Al bent down again. "I know you're scared, Beth. I am, too. But, Sam, he'll get you out of this. He's the best and he'll take care of you." He smiled as she closed her eyes. "I promise," he murmured.

"Sam! Sam, get up!"

Sam tried to ignore the urgent call, tried to go back to sleep, but the voice got louder. And more desperate.

"**Sam**! Come on, pal, wake up!"

"Al?" Sam rolled over and eyed the digital clock. "It's only 6:00," he groaned.

"I know, but he's at it already. Come on, you gotta do something!"

That information spurred him into action and he forced himself to sit up. "What do you mean?"

"Dress while you talk," Al ordered him angrily. "I went to see Beth last night."

"You - you what?" Sam paused in his actions to stare unbelievingly at his partner. It explained why he looked like death warmed over, though. "You stayed with her all night, didn't you?"

Al broke the connection by turning away. It was all the answer Sam needed. "The shyster mentioned a trip they were taking in a week," he said, ignoring Sam's inquiry, "and I could tell she didn't want to go. But when he reacted negatively to her wanting to talk about it, she dropped the subject. Will you move? He brought it up again this morning and they got into an argument. He wanted to go; she didn't. At first it was just yelling, but then he hit her. Sam, you gotta **do** something!"

"A week?" Sam asked as he tied his shoes.

"What?" Al asked absently, already working the 'link.

"Al, when I leaped in, she mentioned over the phone that she was reluctant to go...somewhere, but she would anyway so things wouldn't get worse for her. Now you tell me this trip is in a week? And she dies in a week?" Al swallowed, his finger poised over the handlink. "Isn't that a bit too much coincidence?"

"Yes." He frowned, tapping the handlink with a finger. "And Ziggy thinks so, too."

Sam bolted for the door.

Three minutes later, he pulled up to the large, two story house. She was close to Linny's home, but in a much more upscale neighborhood. Al waited by the front door. "You're too late," he said as Sam bounded up the front stairs. Sam stopped dead, shocked. She wasn't supposed to die for another week! "He's gone," Al clarified. Sam started breathing again.

"At least he's away from her - for now." He rang the doorbell and banged on the door. "Beth?"

Al popped out beside him.

"Beth?" he called, ringing the doorbell again.

Al reappeared and pointed to the window to the far right on the upper level of the house. "She's upstairs. Sam, she looks like she's gonna be sick. I don't think she's gonna come down and let you in," he added as an afterthought.

Sam jiggled the doorknob, surprised when it turned at his prodding and the door swung open. "Is she okay?"

"I guess so." Al didn't sound convinced. "Sam, forget the legal tape, forget everything - just take the jerk out yourself."

Sam paused at the base of the stairs. "I can't do that, Al."

"**Why**?"

"If she doesn't change her stance on this, Linny could pay the price for what I do. If it was just me, Al...I would do it." He pursed his lips. "And I know you would, too."

"Linny?" Beth called from upstairs. Sam grabbed the rail and took the steps two at a time. "Is he gone?"

Al was right - she did look nauseous. "I don't know what you're getting out of staying here," Sam told her as he took her arm to steady her, "but I wish you'd weigh the odds and reconsider."

Beth shook her head and wavered slightly.

Sam sighed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little dizzy."

"He hit you pretty hard, huh." It wasn't a question.

"I'll make you a deal," she said as she sat down on her bed, "you don't insult my intelligence by asking and I won't insult yours by lying."

Sam glanced around and noticed Al was gone. _It can't be easy for him - I'm surprised he was able to be around her at all._

"What did you tell him about going away?"

Beth let out a heavy breath and Sam saw her stiffen slightly. "I told him I didn't want to go and he said I would. End of discussion."

The fear was back in her eyes and Sam realized something: it wasn't Dirk she was afraid of - it was going away with him that led to panic. Unfortunately, the revelation gave him no more insight into what was going on than he'd had before. "Why are you scared to go?" The direct approach could work.

She leveled a steady gaze at him. "You know why."

Or not.

"Linny, I don't know what to do."

"Leave here," Sam urged her. "I'll come with you if you can't do it alone, but we'll just go."

"Where? I don't have anyplace to go."

Sam felt a glimmer of hope at the comment. The words were designed to discourage, but the fact that she rejected his idea for the reason she had instead of denying any desire to leave showed promise. And progress. "You can come live with me for-"

"Linny!" Beth sighed. "We wouldn't last a week. That's the first place he'd look."

"The police-"

She cut him off again, angry this time. "I told you, I don't want to do that."

Sam shook his head and put a hand on her arm. Once, he was sure, she'd been a happy person. Maybe when she was a girl, or when she got into nursing. Or when she'd fallen in love with and married Al. Even in the midst of all that despair he'd seen when he leaped into Jake Rawlins, even through all those tears, he'd still seen her smile. She had a beautiful smile – one that made her look innocent and radiant and youthful all at once. It was probably what made Al fall in love with her. Sam knew that was the difference between then and now: then, in spite of all her pain, she was still living. Now, she was merely surviving.

"So what are you going to do, Beth? Stay here for the rest of your life?"

"I take each day at a time." She sighed, the anger beginning to diminish. "I take each hour at a time."

"Oh, yeah? Well what about the future? What about today or tomorrow or the day after that when he goes too far and kills you? What about then?"

"Then I won't have to worry about it anymore, will I?"

"Maybe you've told me this before, but humor me, Beth. Explain why you won't let the police help you."

She pulled away from his touch, troubled by the contact. Sam swallowed his rage towards Dirk at the action. "This is something that...I got myself into. I can't rely on anyone else to pull me out."

Sam jumped at the opening. "Okay, fine! So pull yourself out! Fight for yourself!"

She laughed without humor. "I don't think that-"

"Beth! I'll fight for you. And I know that...other people will, too."

"Oh, really? Like who?"

He grinned. "I think you'd be surprised. You've got more people in your corner than you realize."

"No kidding?" She was still humoring him, he knew. "Anyone who could put me up for the next few months?"

"No, Sam, absolutely not!" Al looked anxious and ill at ease and he was pacing.

"Come on, Al, it's perfect," Sam coaxed, seated on Linny's couch.

"Have you convinced her to go anywhere with you?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated. "Not yet, no. But I'm getting closer."

"Fine, you do that. Then we'll talk."

"Al..." Al blew out a cloud of smoke, but didn't respond. "It's perfect. You weren't married in '80, were you?"

Al cocked his head. "No...I was just getting over my divorce from my second wife. You know, uh...uh..." He snapped his fingers, trying to recall.

"Second? Already?" Al shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Well, okay, see? Where were you stationed?"

"D.C. Just for a few more months, though." Al stopped pacing and rounded on his friend. "Sam, I just...I just think it's a bad idea. How are you going to convince her to go there?"

"I just won't tell her where we're going."

Al raised his eyes heavenward. "Boy, this plan just keeps getting better and better!"

"Or...you?" Sam spoke the word with an upward slope, as if questioning.

"What? You're just gonna drop by on my doorstep and say, 'Hi, Commander! This is your ex-wife of 11 years - although 5 to you - remember her? We want to live with you for a few days'? How far have you thought this through, Sam?"

The leaper took a deep breath. "Al...it's her life we're talking about here."

Al shook his head stubbornly. "Sam, you know I'd give my life for hers, but... I just think there's got to be a better way."

"Okay, we've got to take her somewhere where Dirk can't find her and we've got to stay with someone who is willing to help protect her should he manage to locate us. Who was your nomination again?"

Al paused. "You."

"She doesn't know me. She doesn't trust me. She knows Linny and she barely trusts her. And I think part of that is because she met her after she stopped trusting anybody. But she knew you before." Sam stood up and took a step towards his friend. "You told me Linny said she was starting to fall apart and we needed to be careful with her. Well, in just the two times I've seen her, I'd have to say Linny was right on the button. She is starting to fall apart, and it's going to happen in less than a week unless we do something."

Al pulled the cigar from his mouth and studied it too carefully. "I'm afraid of what will happen," he admitted. "I just got divorced, in a sense, for the first time. I ended something I thought was worth nothing because she wasn't Beth. And I hadn't started drinking yet, but I was starting to get real bitter about the whole thing. It was hard, realizing for the first time that true love wasn't going to strike twice, and I just think...it's just not a good idea."

Sam spread his hands out in front of him. "It's got to be better than this. Doesn't it?"

"I don't know how I'd react in '80. Hell, if she showed up here tomorrow, I don't know what I'd do."

"Well, I'm not just doing this for her, Al."

He rubbed his hand across his face. "That's what I was afraid of. Mr. Got-To-Save-The-World Beckett." Then he sighed. "Okay, Sam, I trust you to do what you have to do. I just don't have to like it is all."

"Good. Dirk has a meeting of some council or another he's on tonight. I convinced Beth to call me when he left for that. In the meantime, is there some way we can find out where they were planning to go on their vacation?"

"Unless they weren't planning to fly. Why?" Al tucked the cigar back between his lips and started entering requests for information.

"Because after talking with Beth earlier today, I'm even more convinced that whatever this trip is ends up being the factor that leads her to push him. And then he kills her."

"Maybe she's just afraid of spending all that time with him."

Sam shook his head. "No... I don't think she's afraid of him. Not anymore, not really."

"You caught that too, huh? I was hoping it was just me. You think that's why she won't leave him?"

"Maybe," Sam agreed reluctantly.

"I don't think so, either. It's something more than that, but I can't figure what."

"Me neither. It seems Beth is the only one who knows and she's not talking."

"She's such a different person," Al said quietly. "She used to be so open and honest - she never played anything close to the vest."

"Times, they are a-changin'," Sam replied.

Al grimaced. They were both feeling maudlin. "Yeah," he agreed, "really."


	4. Chapter 4

August 1980

Seattle, WA

When Beth called, Sam was still formatting his plan. He still didn't know how to get through to her, though. Al had confirmed that the Simons didn't have any plane tickets for the following week. Dirk obviously hadn't gone anywhere after she died. So they were back to square one - getting the information from her.

Sam was on his way out the door when Al materialized beside him. "Sam, I have something new for you."

Sam looked at him expectantly.

"It seems in July of 1970, Beth had a breakdown. They wanted to hospitalize her and put a suicide watch on her, but Dirk wouldn't let them."

Sam sat in the driver's seat. "Is that when she left the Navy?"

Al consulted the 'link. "It was about a month and a half after that."

Sam looked carefully at Al. He was spouting out the information with amazing detachment.

"And then," he continued, "it was another two months after her breakdown that they moved out here."

"That's an awful lot of coincidence. Think they're connected?"

Sam waited while Al lit a cigar. "Could be."

Al sucked on his stogie and Sam noticed he hadn't shaved yet. "You spend all day with her?"

Al looked genuinely startled at the assumption. "No. I caught a few hours sleep and did some research." He carefully neglected to mention the hourly stops into the Imaging Chamber.

"I see. I'm on my way to see Beth. I bought two tickets to D.C. this afternoon. For tomorrow. We can always change the date if we can't get her to go that soon."

"You're pretty confident."

Sam shrugged. "I try."

"Okay, you go talk to her - try and find out what you can, but top priority is to convince her to run to the other side of the country with you."

"I know." Sam watched as he punched out. He wished Al was coming with him, but he knew it was difficult for him and so he hadn't pressed.

He started the engine and, moments later, was pulling up outside of Beth's house. He wasn't in a hurry this time and he took note of the fancy shutters on the outside, the perfectly kept garden, the brick walkway. Beth was waiting for him, seated on the front steps.

"Linny," she greeted him without inflection.

"Beth. I have something for you." Sam dropped a manila envelope in her lap and she pulled out the plane tickets he'd told Al about.

"What's this?" she demanded, holding out the tickets.

"I'm fighting," Sam replied. "Against him. For you."

"I don't need you to!" she cried, rising to her feet.

"Yes, you do."

"Well then I don't **want** you to!"

"Beth," Sam said, putting his hands on her shoulders. She pulled back and closed up on herself, her shoulders rounding, her arms wrapped around her waist. "Why do you insist on punishing yourself? You don't have to stay here - we can go to D.C. and he'll never find us there!" He shook his head. "Why are you more afraid to go than to stay?"

"Why D.C.?"

She avoided his question, but he felt a flash of encouragement at her response. She was coming around - it was slow, but steady progress. He just may have her on that plane tomorrow after all. "I've got a friend who's agreed to put us up for a while."

"Good Samaritan, huh?"

Sam smiled slightly. "He'd disagree, but I think so."

"He?" The sudden panic that registered in her eyes was like a physical jolt for Sam. "Linny, I don't think-"

Sam took one of the tickets she was trying to shove back into his hand and held it in her palm. "Please." His eyes pleaded with her as he tested the bonds of this friendship.

"I won't go." Looking into her face and beyond, he saw a different answer. Not the one he wanted, but not the one she had given, either.

He held her ticket to freedom out. When she refused to take it, he released it and it flitted to the ground between them, settling with the dust and dirt on the walkway. "That's up to you," he said quietly. "The plane leaves at 11:30."

August 1980

Laurel, MD

He shuddered into wakefulness with a jolt. The darkness, the emptiness around him usually served as a comfort. Tonight, it gnawed its way at his composure, taunting and-

He reached for the lamp, but his hand met with empty air. "Damn," he muttered, amazed. "She even took my **lamp**?" He got out of the bed, stood unsteadily, and sighed deeply. "Guess being dead had its advantages."

The urgent call for light and vision once again assaulted him and he crossed the room, sliding his hand across the wall until it clicked the light on. He surveyed the now half-empty room, rubbing moist palms together as he did so. "Vultures," he smirked bitterly to himself.

It was time to get back on the horse. Sure, his second of as many marriages had just come to a shuddering halt and maybe his batting average hadn't been so good, but that was no reason to give up, right? He could call his friend, the one from up north in Bel Air, get reacquainted, and forget all about Ellie and...everyone else.

He rolled his eyes at his own internal dialogue. "Optimism's overrated," he told the mirror solemnly. Or maybe he was telling the face in the mirror. Either way, Al Calavicci had never been a flowers and sunshine type of person and he saw no reason to change now. Maybe that was why she'd left him.

Which she, he wasn't sure. There had been so many. And there had been only one.

But he knew why Ellie had left him: Veronica.

So much for discreet.

When had this happened, anyhow? There had been a time when the question of faithfulness hadn't even been broached. There was no need for it. It was the time when the woman in his life had been just that: **the** woman in his life. Somewhere along the line, that had changed.

As much as he tried to deny it, he knew exactly where and he knew who it had changed with. Or, rather, who it had changed after.

And so another marriage was down the tubes, but he couldn't blame this one on her, could he? That made two and counting... Except that he had no desire to put himself through that kind of grief again. Why should he? The first time had stung badly enough and the second time...well, maybe not as badly, but it wasn't exactly pleasant.

"Maybe each time it just gets a little better." Al made a face. Wishful thinking wasn't really him, either. He dealt in facts.

And the fact was he hadn't done a very good job of burying his past. Five years later, and it was still coming back to haunt him, if not in his waking moments, than in his dreams.

_The dream._ He'd almost managed to forget about that. Maybe that was what ultimately broke down the relationship with Ellie: his refusal to talk with her about thoughts and demons that desperately craved voicing. Nothing had happened between him and Veronica, not really. A little harmless flirting perhaps, a few dinners, but nothing that was that far over the line. Maybe it was just the betrayal itself, not how it manifested itself in their relationship. He couldn't blame her; he knew what being betrayed felt like.

A sick feeling slid through his stomach and he felt the tendrils of the dream grip him again. They shouldn't be this hard to shake after all those years. If he wasn't reliving a memory in his sleep, he was fashioning one of his own, usually with her. This one had the Calavicci seal of inspection on it, all right. She'd been in it.

His normal course of action was to forget what he'd dreamt - banish it to some locked files in his mind that never needed to be reopened, but this time he tried to remember, strained to recall - he needed to remember her, if only for a moment, to gather the strength to face a life without her. What had she looked like? What did she smell of? Did she still laugh the same, smile the same, touch his cheek the same? Love him the same?

What had he done when she'd come back to him after 11 years of abandonment, the pain of which still hurt more than anything any enemy could ever do to him? All he could remember was that the dream definitely did not end in "happily ever after". For him, he supposed, it never would.

August 1980

Seattle, WA

"You should reschedule."

"She'll be here," Sam replied with a confidence he didn't feel.

Al fretted beside him in the airport, fidgeting alternately with the handlink and the cigar, not really using either for anything more than a distraction. "She's not coming, Sam. It's 11:20 already."

"Will you stop worrying?"

He made a face. "What turnip truck did you fall off of?"

"She'll come," Sam insisted, as if the more he said it, the more he could convince her. But the time for convincing was over, he knew. "Part of her really wants to. It just has to reason with whatever's keeping her in an existence she hates." Somewhere in that part of him that had learned to read people, that had lived through trial with the best and the worst and everyone in-between, knew that if she didn't come now, she wasn't coming at all. "Ask Ziggy."

Al bit the cigar and activated the 'link. "She gives it 50/50."

"Nothing's ever really 50/50," Sam said, annoyed.

The admiral held out the colorful box towards Sam. "Tell her that. I just read what I see."

Sam frowned.

"11:25," Al said quietly, pulling the 'link back towards himself. He bit his lips together.

"Is it that you don't want her to show, is that it?" Al's pessimism was starting to become grating.

"Of course not, Sam!" Al was taken aback. "Give me a little credit, here."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Al. I'm just frustrated and disappointed that she didn't come. I shouldn't take it out on you. I guess I should go get our tickets changed." He started to gather his belongings.

"So are we going or not?" asked an impatient voice. "It's the final boarding call."

Sam glanced up in amazement. "Beth."

She dropped her carryon luggage at his feet. "Look, I'll go. I just don't have to like it is all." Sam bit back a grin. "So let's go - we're gonna miss the plane. Sometimes Dirk comes home for lunch and if he sees I'm not there, he'll figure it out that much faster."

Sam watched as she recollected her things and turned towards the gate. "Or he could think you just ran out to do a few errands."

She shook her head, holding out her ticket to be checked. "He didn't give me any errands to do today and he gets suspicious if I go out when he doesn't. He calls home sometimes in the middle of the day, too, just to check up on me." Al uttered one of his more colorful phrases between barely parted lips, then he punched out. "Besides," she continued, "I left my wedding ring on the night stand." They boarded the plane and took their seats. Beth stared out the window. "He'll know."

He glanced at her hands automatically and saw the pale strip of skin on her ring finger of her left hand. Then he saw the gold band on her right hand. "What's that?"

She shifted uneasily in the chair and slid off the ring, holding it tightly in her hand. "Nothing."

Sam let the subject drop and touched her shoulder carefully. He had the feeling he knew what it was, anyway, and he wondered how much Beth had told Linny about it. "I'm sorry this couldn't be easy."

She shrugged and forced a smile that didn't touch her eyes. "That's okay... At least I won't have to go back to San Diego with him."

_Thank you for your comments so far. I wish I could take credit for the idea of this story, but it largely came about through an innocent comment made by Pat Chachich, who also helped me edit this story. Thanks to her and to my other editors, Christina Bartruff and Jennie Rowland._


	5. Chapter 5

August 1980

En Route to Washington D.C.

Al shook his head - it was clear he didn't understand. "So, she's going back to San Diego. I don't get it."

Sam braced himself against opposite walls of the small compartment as the plane shifted. "So San Diego's where she lived with you. It's where she met Dirk. Where she had her breakdown. Al, she lost everything there."

Al shook his head. "I just don't see where that-"

"Would you ever find it easy to go back to Vietnam?" Sam interrupted him.

Al blanched slightly. "Not likely."

The leaper raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'doesn't that prove my point?'

"Okay, fine. So she can't handle going back, facing all those memories. I still say there's something more."

Sam pursed his lips and sighed. "Maybe," he conceded. "Will you come back out there with me? She's sorta-" he fumbled, tumbling his hands in confused gestures "-closed up and I can't read her."

A restrained dread crept in his eyes and Sam remembered that he had really only been around her once with Sam. He hated to do this, but he needed his observer. "Sure, Sam," he finally said.

Sam opened the door and squeezed out down the aisle. He sat back down to Beth's right, smiling faintly at her as he pulled on the seat belt. "You okay?"

She moved in discomfort tempered with anxiety. "Sure."

Sam wanted to touch her hand, give her reassurance and strength through contact, but something in the way she was fingering her necklace gave him pause. At first he thought it was the restless trembling as she flipped the chain around her fingers, then he realized the ring was now around the gold chain. Perhaps there was something to Al's earlier assessment about San Diego. Why would she be clinging so fiercely to that reminder if she was so avidly trying to avoid her past?

"Oh, Sam," Al fretted anxiously, running his eyes over her form. A thousand subconscious signals coalesced into one determination: "She's not doing so well." Then his eyes caught a faint flash as she tucked the necklace away. "Sam...she's wearing her ring. That I gave her!" For an instant, he was too astonished to react. Then the emotions came flooding across his face. "Did you tell her where you're going?"

Sam shook his head minutely, even though she was staring out the window again.

"Don't you think you should?" Al was aghast.

_Do you really think she'd go if I did?_ Sam thought fiercely, frustrated by his limitations on communicating with Al. The next time he tried something like this, he was devising a telepathic hookup first.

"Just because she's skittish around you doesn't mean she wouldn't still go," Al continued.

Inwardly, Sam grinned. Maybe he already **had** a telepathic partner.

Al eyed Beth again and his face reflected more than a little regret. "Why would she have that ring with her, Sam?"

"I don't know," Sam murmured, forgetting himself for an instant.

"You don't know what?" Beth asked in a comfortingly steady voice, turning to face him. Al shifted his eyes to a distant point, as if afraid of being caught looking at her.

"I don't know...how we're going to get through D.C. traffic tonight."

Al made an exasperated sound and muttered something about the tragic implications of terminally honest people.

"It'll be a lot easier than fighting rush hour in the morning," she pointed out. "Isn't your friend coming to get us?"

Sam hesitated.

"You have to tell her at least that much, Sam," Al remarked.

"Beth..." He looked at Al, taking encouragement with Al's certainty. "I have to tell you something."

A mask slammed down over her eyes, but her voice was pointedly neutral. "What?"

"This person...he'll help us out, but he's not a friend of Linny's - mine," he corrected himself. "And...he doesn't know we're coming."

She permitted herself ten seconds' recovery time from that statement before exploding while Sam squirmed. "He **what**?" She said in a whisper that came out more like startled gasp. "Linny, how could you **do** this to me?"

"I had to."

He hands clenched the armrests tightly. "I don't see where you had to lie to me."

Al stepped forward slightly in unseen support. Then he turned to Sam, pointing his cigar towards her. "It's a cover, Sam. Used to confuse the hell outta me. She gets really angry when she's the most hurt or upset."

Sam had already guessed that much, though, and he carefully kept his voice calm, trying to battle panic with reason. "Beth, would you have come if you'd known?" She didn't respond, but the answer was clear. "You pulled yourself out - that's the first step and the hardest. And I - I didn't think you'd do it if I hadn't..." he shrugged "...embellished."

She had to laugh at that. It was a real laugh, too, not the strained, tight, sometime sarcastic sounds of before. It was light and amused and showed promise. And it sounded free. Al smiled slowly, some of the concern draining away. Sam could see the tenderness deep in his black eyes; even now, he loved her so much. It strengthened Sam's resolve and convinced him that he was doing the right thing.

"Embellished," she echoed, the humor still plain in her expression. "You've got a real gift for understatement."

"So I'm told," he responded, casting his friend a glance.

"So how do you know this guy'll help us if you don't even know him?"

A hint of irony crept in a tugged at the corners of Sam's mouth. "Trust me. I know."

Beth shook her head. "Linny, who is he? A shrink?"

"No!" His startled expression must have shown because Beth didn't question his sincerity. "You said you wanted to keep this under wraps and I'm with you - for now."

"So who is he?"

"I'll introduce all of us when we get there." _Or, at any rate, I'll introduce myself._ "Just relax. We'll get through this, okay?"

"Right." She didn't look as if she believed him. But maybe, hopefully, she wanted to.

August 1980

Laurel, MD

He was hanging up his uniform for the day when his buzzer sounded. Al threaded his way back through the apartment, avoiding the few stray boxes that still lingered. Ellie had said everything of hers would be out by that morning. Anything left over, he fully intended to keep. And if she didn't like it, she could take him to court.

She probably would, too.

He could still hear her grating voice shouting at him. 'Albert Calavicci, don't pretend you don't hear what I'm saying! Do you want to make a federal case outta this?' She said the same thing every time. Once, he'd mouthed the last phrase with her. She threw the alarm clock at him. Broke the clock and damn near broke his hand, too.

Geez, he hoped it wasn't her at the door.

It wasn't.

A young, attractive blonde with pale blue eyes that didn't interest him half as much as the rest of her stood outside his apartment. Things were definitely looking up. He sagged against the door frame and looked her up and down a few times. "I don't know you yet, do I?" he questioned, an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

The look on the blonde's face was one of faint exasperation. "No. But I need your help."

"Come on in, honey. I was just about to fix myself some dinner. Care to join me?"

She hesitated, then extended her hand. Al took it in both of his and kissed it. She pulled back sharply. "Commander, my name is Linny Bell." She drew a step into the apartment even though it was clear she was uncomfortable with him. Al sighed inwardly. Ah well...it as probably too soon after Ellie anyhow, and he didn't like to push. Plus the use of his rank had caught his attention. "I just flew out from Washington state to see you."

Curiosity overrode seduction and he raised his eyebrows. "Why?" he asked bluntly.

Linny glanced out towards the parking lot, then closed the door slightly, blocking anyone's view from outside, an act Al watched with increasing intrigue.

"Are you in trouble?" he asked.

She took another step forward, eagerly. "Yes. Please, we need your help."

"We?" When she didn't immediately respond, he got the feeling she'd released too much information too soon. "Why did you come to me?"

"Well, I have someone with me, waiting out in the car, actually. She's the one who's in trouble, more so than me. She's-"

"Ms. Bell, why don't you just start at the beginning?"

The strange visitor never got the chance because a woman pushed open the door and touched her arm cautiously. "Linny?"

"I asked you to wait in the car," Linny said quietly with genuine concern.

"I know you did, but I'm feeling dizzy and I wanted to know-"

She broke off as she stared at Al. As for him, he had been speechless ever since she'd walked in the door. A deathly silence fell over the trio and finally Al turned to Linny, peering at her as though through a thick fog. Sensations he couldn't even begin to identify swirled within him. "Is this a joke?" he demanded sharply, fire sparking in his eyes. "Is this your idea of some kind of sick **joke**?" Beth took a step back and Linny reached for her arm as if to keep her in the room.

"Commander, I don't think you really-" Linny started, but Beth cut in, pulling free.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she cried. "You know I'm scared to death of San Diego and so you bring me here instead?"

"Beth, he can help-"

"No!" she cried, stopping Linny again. She started to back out of the room. "This is insane... I can't even - why are you **doing** this to me? I've got to go back." The last was said with unsteady panic.

Linny took a step forward and risked a light touch on her arm. Al couldn't move and the meaning of the conversation he was witnessing was entirely lost on him to begin with. His own emotions were crippling. She was here – she was **here** – and she was beautiful and real and-

"Beth," Linny implored, "you know you can't do that."

"I don't care if it kills me!" Beth shot back, gripping the opposite sides of the door frame.

"It probably will. Please, will you just stop for a moment and listen?"

The look on her face was horrible and then she ran. Linny glance briefly to her right, paused for several seconds, then looked at Al. "You have to help her. You're all she has," she told him somberly, then took off after Beth.

When he went to the door and looked out, he saw Beth sobbing hysterically in the grass and Linny bending over her, doing her best to comfort. All he could do was watch.

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

"Are you okay?"

Al grinned weakly, but kept his back to the doorway. "Fine, Verbena." He waited for the sound of his office door clicking shut, knowing he wouldn't hear it. Sighing deeply, he turned to her. "I just need some time to myself. You know, to sort it all out."

Verbena stood in his doorway, nodding slowly. "I know, but I wanted to make sure you understood something."

"Oh, yeah?" His tone wasn't quite sarcastic, but it was lined with a certain amount of disbelief. He twisted around in his chair to face her.

"You haven't been keeping me updated on the situation, but I've been doing my own research. I've been talking with Linny and Ziggy both and I think I understand part of this."

Al extended his hand, indicating that she should sit down. Then he stood up and leaned against the desk in front of her. "This end or that one?"

Her smile was irritatingly enigmatic. "Both. But let's talk about that one."

"Fair enough."

"She never told Linny about you," she started.

Al crossed his arms and looked down at her. "So?"

"So how could her friend have known unless she did her own research?"

"I don't get where you're going with this, Beeks." He wasn't outwardly impatient yet, but it was drawing closer.

"So Linny betrayed her. And you did."

He was genuinely startled. "Me? How?"

"By leaving her, by not coming back, and then by coming back too late."

Al's brow furrowed as he turned that one over in his mind.

"And Dirk betrayed her," Verbena continued.

This one was painfully obvious, even to him. "By abusing her," Al supplied.

"For not being you," she corrected. "Don't you get it, Al?"

He threw up his hands. "Apparently not!"

"Beth is afraid, but not of Dirk."

Al raised an eyebrow in question.

"She's afraid of you."


	6. Chapter 6

August 1980

Laurel, MD

She felt betrayed. Again and again. Things were starting to catch up with her and she hit overload when she saw Al. How had Linny even known unless she'd been snooping, checking up on her? And what now? Would she go back to Dirk after all the courage it took to leave him?

Beth fell to her knees in the grass, buried her face in her hands and cried. If nothing else, she needed the release. The pressure was unbearable and now there was no one else she could trust, no one else she could go to. It wasn't so much that she'd just become alone, but more that she'd just realized it. She hadn't felt the comforting presence of anyone since Al left for his second tour...

And now he was here. Thirty feet away. He'd betrayed her, too. He'd left her again and again and she'd known there'd be a time when he wouldn't come back. Yet, he had. Every time.

Eventually, however, the time would come and she could never let him near her again. It hurt too much.

"Beth?" Linny dropped beside her in the grass and put her arm around her shoulders, but Beth pulled back.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, blinded by tears and rage and turmoil. "How could you do this? I trusted you!"

"Beth, I'm sorry, I-"

"Like you were sorry on the plane?" she interjected, sitting up and facing her companion. "What good could it possibly do to bring me here?"

"What harm could it do?" she countered evenly.

"Are you kidding me?" Beth scrambled to her feet. "I'll show you what harm. I **quit**!"

Linny grabbed her arm roughly. "What do you mean you quit? Quit what?"

She yanked free, trembling and on edge. "I can't **do** it anymore, don't you get it? I can't-"

She stopped and clutched her stomach as another wave of dizziness and nausea assaulted her. She was a nurse; she knew she wasn't well, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from making it all worse. She swayed precariously and probably would have fallen except Al appeared from nowhere and caught her arm. He looked almost as shocked as she did at the action.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out; for several seconds the only sound was that of her frantic breathing. "Are you sick?" he asked finally. She certainly did look it. "If you need my help, I'll give it to you," he said quietly, hurriedly. There was a pained look etched in every line of his face.

"Let go," she whispered. He hesitated. "My God, let go!" she shrieked suddenly and he let her go as if she'd suddenly turned into a rattlesnake. She backed up several steps and almost tripped on the uneven soil. "Everyone just stay away from me!"

Linny took a step towards her, waving at Al to back off, for which she was grateful. Some part of her mind that was trying to protect her refused to acknowledge his presence at all. "Beth, you're sick, okay? And we can't go anywhere until we take care of that. You've been feeling sick all day, haven't you?" She wasn't sure – she thought she'd been okay on the plane. She shrugged. "Come on," Linny continued soothingly, "we need to take your temperature. Beth, you're getting hysterical. Come on..." Her words were finally beginning to break through and some rational thought drifted back into her senses.

This was madness. And she was contributing to it.

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered, allowing Linny to take her arm and lead her back inside to the couch. She laid down on it.

Linny smiled down at her. "You don't have to be sorry, Beth. None of this is your fault. I know it's going to be hard, but you'll get through it, okay?"

Beth didn't believe her. "I can't stay here," she insisted in mellow tones.

Her friend just looked sympathetically at her with an expression almost maternal in nature.

The admiral had long since left. The entire scene was becoming far too painful and Sam realized more than ever just how much of a difference there was between 2000 and 1980. The admiral wanted nothing more than to soothe her and take away her pain. The commander may have wanted that, too, but then the main difference between the two exerted itself. Commander Calavicci was still angry at Beth. Angry at her for leaving, at giving up on him.

But he was hiding it well.

"What happened?" the commander asked quietly of Sam, watching Beth, who had finally fallen asleep on the couch.

"She had a panic attack," Sam told him in equally subdued tones.

"Well...what's wrong with her?"

Sam sighed deeply. "Her husband beats her."

The anger began to build like a storm in his eyes. "He **what**?"

Sam's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "And that doesn't help," he hissed angrily. "She's ready to give up on everything and yelling and screaming is **not** going to improve matters. That's what I brought her here to get her away from. She's very sick in both mind and body and she's got eleven years of suppressed anguish that she's gonna start facing soon. So, are you going to help me or not?"

"Y-yes," he stammered. Then, more firmly, "Of course." He frowned. "What am I supposed to do? Is she..." He stopped and drew in a breath. "Is she scared of me?"

Sam rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Yes and no. I think she's more scared of whatever part of herself she's keeping buried."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I. Something terrifies her and I don't know what."

He stared absently towards the front door. "Did she... Did she love him?"

Before this leap, Sam would have said 'yes', but now...he really didn't have the answer. "I don't know."

Al left early for work that morning which, in the end, turned out to be better. At least that would give Beth some recovery time without him around. Sam wondered how long he would stall before coming home that afternoon. As far as he could tell, Beth'd slept straight through from the evening before and Sam wondered if she might have even been okay if Al hadn't started yelling.

Sam took a deep breath and bent over Beth's peaceful form.

"Beth?" he called.

She jumped slightly her eyes flew open. Sam backed up several steps, giving her room.

"It just me," he reassured her.

She looked around the room as if she didn't recognize it, then he could see the recollection enter her face. She sat up. "I'm sorry...I don't really remember much of-"

"You had a panic attack," Sam explained calmly, pushing a glass of water into her hand.

The liquid inside the glass vibrated. "San Diego," he heard her whisper faintly. "Oh, no, it's San Diego all over again."

Sam pulled up a foot rest and sat on it, perched at eye level with her. "Beth, will you tell me what happened there?"

"It's where I married Dirk," she said as if she was giving a history lesson of some stranger.

He slid the seat a notch closer. "I did some digging..."

"I can tell."

"What?" he asked, alarmed.

"How else could you have known about **him**?"

"You mean you didn't-" Sam cut himself off. "Of course not," he muttered. She didn't trust even Linny with that kind of glimpse at her true regrets. "You were hospitalized once, weren't you?"

"Who told you that?" she demanded, trying to look angry, but looking scared instead. Then she continued on without waiting for any reply. "Linny, we can't stay here."

"Sure we can."

"No...no, I don't think we can. You saw what happened yesterday. Everything's just going to pieces and I can't stay."

"Where will you go?"

Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. "I don't know. Home, I guess."

"And where is home?"

She looked up sharply. "You're relentless!"

He smiled. "I'm your friend."

She twisted her fingers into an anxious knot. "Um, it was over a year after Dirk and I married and I was just trying to get used to not having work and not spending time with coworkers and friends."

It took Sam a few seconds to catch up with the conversation and realize she was giving him the information he'd requested. "This is after you left the Navy, right?" Sam said, mainly for his own clarification.

"Yes. And that's the problem, you see."

He didn't. And he said so.

"If I'd still been in touch with people from the Navy, I would have had some warning."

Sam's brow furrowed. "About what?"

Beth looked directly at him and spoke two words that wouldn't have meant anything to Linny, but meant everything to Sam. "The picture."

_Maggie._

Sam struggled to control his reaction.

Beth continued, as if Sam didn't comprehend the statement. "There was a reporter in Vietnam. And she took a picture in April and by the time it filtered down the lines and made it through military red tape and by the time everyone in it had been identified and by the time it had won a Pulitzer, it was the middle of the year.

"It was a photograph. Of Al." She swallowed harshly, but her composure had yet to slip. "He was still alive, Linny! And even if I had been notified the instant the picture was taken, it still would have been too late."

Sam breathed in fresh air through his nostrils, surveying the disarrayed apartment with half-packed boxes and dirty dishes in the sink. And he wondered if Beth and Admiral Calavicci had both been right. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Commander Calavicci was obviously in a massive state of adjustment and transition and bringing Beth into the picture was certain to cloud matters for him.

"How did you find out?"

Her laugh was far from comforting. "Saw it in a magazine. I'm not too sure of what happened after that. I think...I started screaming. I screamed until someone came. The next month or so is kind of a blur..." She shrugged and fingered the necklace again. "So you understand why I can't stay here."

"You can't run away from this, Beth. Maybe this was the wrong time to bring you here, but it had to be done sometime." _There really is nothing left of Beth Calavicci,_ Sam thought with dismay. _This Beth Simon person is different in every respect. Almost every respect._

She shook her head. "No."

"Beth..."

"No!" she cried out. "Linny, please."

Sam held her shoulders in a restraint, not relenting when she tried to wrench herself free. "You still love him, don't you?"

"**Please**." Desperation was starting to creep into her eyes, but she'd stopped struggling. Sam didn't know whether to take that as a good sign or a bad one. It seemed she didn't do enough struggling in this situation except in her efforts to escape the past. "You made a mistake and so did he. But that doesn't mean that-"

"That what?" she demanded. "Linny, think! How old are you? Twenty-one? You don't understand any of this."

"Maybe not, but I..." He paused as the Imaging Chamber Door slid open.

"Sam..." Al broke off when he saw Beth's troubled expression. "Is she okay?"

"-I just want to help you," Sam finished.

"Then take me back."

"I wouldn't do that, Sam. We need to talk." He looked up from the 'link and stared at Beth, longer this time. "What a mess," he muttered. What, exactly, he was referring to, Sam couldn't say.

"I can't do that," Sam said, responding to her statement. "Why don't you go take a long shower and we can talk some more after, okay?"

She mumbled some kind of vague assent and left Sam alone with the admiral.

"I think I understand," Sam said quietly.

Al watched her as she left the room. "Understand what?"

"Why she stayed with Dirk. It was her penance."

"For what?" he asked absently.

Sam looked at his friend. "For you."

"Me?" Al was taken aback and his gaze snapped towards the leaper.

"For giving up on you, for losing faith. She felt...she had to pay for her mistake and living with her decision was the only way she knew how to do it."

Al stared off into the distance. "Sam, I have a confession to make. I would never wish any harm on her, but after I came home from hell and she was gone...well, there was a part of me that-" He shook himself. "And to some extent, that part never quite left and now I almost feel-" he fished for the right word "-justified? God, Sam, does that make me a bad person?"

"No," Sam assured him readily. "It just makes you a human person."

"Yeah, well, that's little comfort."

Sam let a short silence signal his change of direction. "She doesn't want to stay."

Al shoved the handlink into his pocket. "Yeah."

"And I'm wondering if she's right."

"Sam!" Al's face reddened and all passive nuances vanished. "You're not gonna let her-"

"No, Al," Sam cut in, "of course not. But I'm just not so sure it's a good idea for us to stay here."

"Where would you go?"

Sam shrugged and flopped gracelessly onto the couch. "I don't know." He raised his eyes, then frowned. "You don't want me to take her away from here, do you?" When Al refrained from answering, he squinted at the admiral, puzzled. "I don't get it. A few days ago you couldn't try and talk me out of it fast enough. Why the change of heart?"

Al avoided his gaze. "There was a time, when I married her, that I couldn't imagine a life without her. Then I was living it. Part of me just kept saying, years later, that she was better off. Then you leaped into Linny and I felt that it was no good bringing her to me again, in spite of her circumstances." Al shifted uncomfortably and breathed in cigar smoke with something akin to desperation. "And I didn't think I could bear to see her again and risk the chance that...she might not love me anymore. Because as long as I didn't know for sure, I could have my own truth."

Sam thought back on her frantic reaction when she'd seen Al, then to her story of seeing Maggie Dawson's picture. "So what made you change your mind?"

Al's face altered into sheepish admission. "The ring. If facing me brings up memories of guilt and sorrow, I don't want her to have to deal with it, but if she's clinging to a symbol - now... I just don't see how I could possibly deny my desire to help her. Then and now. I mean, maybe..." He hesitated. "Maybe she still needs me."

Sam was moved by Al's sentiments, but he refused to show it, trying not to make Al any more self-conscious than he already was. "Then we won't leave. But I don't know how to fix this situation, Al. She's scared to go, scared to stay, and I don't think she feels she has anywhere else to turn. That can be dangerous. And every time I try and talk with her, she gets defensive and angry. Or just sarcastic."

Al lowered his cigar, small eddies of smoke curling up to the ceiling and through it. "I told you before, that's all just a cover for her. And the more hostile she gets, the closer you are to making her face what's really getting to her. Granted, the way she reacts seems to be more harsh than I remember, but she probably had to do that to survive with that monster. Trust me, Sam, the downpour's on the horizon." He shook his head. "I could never stand it when she cried," he added. Then he smiled slightly. "Sometimes I think she just did it to get her way."

"Did she?" Sam asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"At least I didn't try to **make** her cry," Al choked in angrier tones than he had intended. The heavy curtain of anger and regret blanketed the room again.

"I'm sorry, Al," Sam said after a moment.

Al pulled himself from the approaching pall. "For what?"

"I could've changed this. I could've-"

"Sam," Al said firmly, "**this** is not your fault. Any more than what happened to me was Beth's. We all make decisions and those of us who don't know the future are bound to make mistakes."

Sam smiled faintly. It wasn't even so much that Al had forgiven him, but that it had never occurred to the observer to blame him in the first place. He wished he could change his original decision - save Al some grief and Beth some pain. He'd made a mistake and it was at times like this when he wondered who was left to clean up after **his** errors.

"Which is what I needed to talk to you about," Al resumed.

"What?"

"Ziggy told me that in three days, Beth still dies."


	7. Chapter 7

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Sam stood up and started pacing. Al was unusually subdued, standing quietly and watching the scientist with alert eyes.

"What do you mean she still dies?" Sam demanded, even though it was a pointless question. "That was the point of coming here!"

"I know, but in three days, Dirk finds her."

"How? How could he possibly know where to find us?" Sam's frustration was momentarily stifled - why was he getting more worked up than Al? "Al? Are you okay?" He'd expected Al to rant, rave, maybe babble off in Italian, break a few handlinks. What he didn't expect was this passive facade of calm that only just covered a mass of nervous energy.

Al avoided his gaze. "I remember," he said quietly. The handlink remained tucked away as he continued the description. "She'd gone into D.C. because, well, just because I was home and I guess she didn't want to be around me. That night Linny and I stayed up waiting for her to come back. I think there was even a news report about a woman who'd been found murdered that evening, but neither of us picked up on it. I mean, they didn't have her identified, so how would we know? But when the hours passed and she didn't come back, we called the police. They had us come down to the station and then brought me over to the morgue to identify her body." With a blank expression, Al drew the cigar back up and put the stogie absently between his lips.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and exhaled heavily. "So we just keep her here, don't let her go into town."

"You've got to get her to press charges, Sam. Otherwise, she'll only have two people watching her back. But we can't do it forever and the police won't be able to do a thing until he makes a move on her, and by then it'll be too late."

"I don't know if I can."

"You've **got** to! Reason with her."

"Al, I've **tried** reasoning, remember? It didn't work. Neither did pushing, pressing, or bringing her here."

"I told you earlier, you're getting closer," Al persisted.

Sam gave a grimace of exasperation. "I don't know..."

"Well, Sam, you've got to work it out or she's gonna die."

The edge in Al's voice caused Sam to refrain from snapping back. The admiral wasn't trying to remind him of his duty - he was just trying to protect the woman he loved. But, ultimately, it was Sam who was going to have to put their plan into action. Whatever it was.

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Commander Calavicci narrowed his eyes as he read the notice from Ellie's attorney. Things were starting to get messy and soon the mud would start slinging. He didn't know how he was going to refrain from getting dirty, especially when he already had two women living in his apartment. The lawyers were sure to grab onto that and use it however they could. Al shied away from reflecting on current housing arrangements. He didn't know how he felt about it and he didn't **want** to know how he felt about it.

The woman he was in love with, who he loved more than life itself, had given up on him, left him for dead. And then voluntarily came back. Well, maybe not voluntarily, but she hadn't left yet. He didn't know how he felt about that, either.

He also couldn't figure out Linny. Obviously a bright, intelligent woman, but she was...inappropriate. She seemed to want to become involved in things that were not her concern. And the way she'd looked at him the night before...as if she knew him. As if she could read his thoughts. There was something there - not attraction, but he couldn't place exactly what it was. Either way, he felt distinctly uncomfortable around her.

He picked up the stack of mail on the counter. Several days' worth seemed to have accumulated. The top letter was addressed to Ellie Calavicci. He heaved a sigh of irritation and started to sift through the envelopes and magazines.

Someone cleared her throat behind him and he turned to see Beth, looking distinctly ill-at-ease. His breath caught in his throat, choking him, but he swallowed back the reaction with an effort. His smile was pale and unconvincing. "Hi."

She brushed her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit that called forward more bittersweet memories within him. "Hi," she returned in hushed tones. "What are you doing?"

He turned back towards the countertop and started sorting again. "Just trying to organize my life," he returned, more harshly than he'd intended. He told her he'd help her - he couldn't do this now. He couldn't snap at her and make her feel unwelcome, like she was just another box in the way.

He heard her take a deep breath and then she stepped up beside him. She eyed the two growing stacks of bills and notices on the smooth counter. Then her eyes widened slightly. "You remarried?" she asked bluntly, as if not certain what to think or how to feel.

"Not anymore," he returned without looking up. "Worst damn mistake I - ever - made," he continued angrily, punctuating each word with a slap of another letter on the hard surface in front of him. She winced with each loud noise and he immediately regretted his anger. But he didn't apologize for it.

"Where is she?"

"She moved out a couple of months ago. And I'm still getting her mail," he added, waving an offending example. "Gonna take me for every penny."

She brushed her hair again, a movement he caught out of the corner of his vision and he closed his eyes briefly. "How long were you married?"

He couldn't fathom why she would be asking him this. "Beth," he began, very nearly stopping again just from the shock of saying her name, "it's obvious this isn't all that comfortable for either one of us. You need my help, fine. But let's try to make this as painless as humanly possible, okay?"

"I'm sorry... I - I shouldn't have let Linny talk me into staying. I'll go, I promise," she said quietly, hurriedly.

Al slapped down the last shred of Ellie's belongings left in the apartment and turned to her. "Don't go if you can't find any other options, okay? I'm not saying I want you to go." Inwardly, he cringed; why were all his words coming out angry and hurt?

She backed up a step. "I - I just don't-"

"I never wanted you to go," he mumbled, dropping his gaze miserably.

Time stopped.

Beth caught her breath and took another step backwards. "I was out of - I **am** out of options. Or I'd leave you in peace."

He picked up the stack of papers addressed to him. "It's not peace," he stated. "Either way, it was never peace." With that, he turned on his heel and left her alone in the kitchen.

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

Al perched on the corner of the Waiting Room table, watching Linny Bell with probing eyes and as non-threatening a stance as he could manage.

"So what you're saying is that they're - we're - in Washington D.C.?"

Al rubbed his hands together. "Yes."

"Why?"

_Now for the fun part._ "Beth was married once before, did you know that?"

Linny's brow furrowed. Al knew from Sam and Beth that, chances were, she hadn't the slightest clue about Beth's life before Dirk. "I don't think so... Was he abusive also?"

The question both startled and unsettled Al and it took him several seconds to respond. "No!" he said finally, sharply. Then he relaxed slightly. "No," he repeated, "but she thought he was dead. And, in her loneliness and desperation, she made a bad decision."

Linny folded her arms. "Tell me about it! Why did she think he was dead?"

"It's a long story. Suffice it to say, that's who Sam and Beth are with."

"I bet that one went over big. I tell you she's fragile and so you do that? What kind of fun house is this?"

"We think a lot of what's tearing her apart is a number of unresolved issues with him. And she needs to face that before she can rebuild." _We both do._

Commander Calavicci may not have known just how he felt, but the situation was crystal clear for the admiral: he loved her.

Period.

Linny reached out a hand, index finger extended. "Well, if I hear you've done anything to her that-"

"Trust me," Al assured her, "we only want to help her." He felt a flash of gratitude that, at the very least, Beth had a friend who was willing to stick up for her. Like Sam.

"Have you talked with her?"

He smiled slightly, his eyes losing focus. "A long time ago." Then he pulled himself out of the new memories and back into awareness. "I need to go check up on Sam, but if you can think of any ways Dirk could find out where she is, please, tell us. We could use all the help we can get."

"Are you worried that he will?"

He slid to his feet and looked at her. "We're sure of it."

She frowned at him, her eyes blue eyes intense with concentration. He turned to go. "Admiral," she called out, stopping his retreat. "Are you okay?"

She definitely had Sam's gift of perception. His smile came easier than he would have expected it to. "Yeah, I'm just...worried about her."

Linny focused her bright eyes on his. "You must know her well."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Because you're in love with her."

The smile faded slightly, but his eyes glittered in the blue lighting. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a bizarre mixture of amusement and hurt. Then he patted her arm and left the Waiting Room.

For once, Verbena wasn't standing sentry outside the door, lying in wait for him. He breathed a sigh of relief - he wasn't in the mood to be psychoanalyzed.

Squaring his shoulders, he headed off down the sterile hall to try, yet again, to talk to Sam and come to a decision about how to stop the worst nightmare of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Day After That**

**~Chapter 8~**

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Sam was on the phone in the guest bedroom. He waved to Al as the Imaging Chamber Door slid shut, indicating that he should wait until the conversation was over.

"And he left when?" Sam was saying, then he scribbled something on the pad in front of him. "Do you know where he went?" Sam bit his lip. "What's there?" He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, can you give me a call if he comes back into town? It's urgent." He hung up the phone.

"Seattle?" Al asked somberly.

"I was trying to figure out where Dirk was. I don't know what good it'd do, exactly, but at least-"

"I can just center in on the jerk, y'know?"

"Do **you** know how he finds us?" Sam retorted testily.

"We're workin' on it."

"Well, what if I can't keep her home that night?"

"Sam, I'm well aware of what's at stake here."

"I know you are, Al," Sam returned, more calmly this time. "But I - I'm just scared to screw this one up."

"If you're still on what happened in San Diego in '69, get off it!"

Sam slid around in his seat to face the admiral. "Al, do you know why she had her breakdown in '70? Do you know why she was hospitalized?"

Al took a breath to brace himself. "No, tell me." His voice was flat.

"She saw the picture," Sam said, staring at the wall. The memories associated with the Pulitzer Prize winning photo were unpleasant for all three of them.

"The picture?" Al clarified as if he didn't understand, but Sam knew he did.

"Yeah," the scientist said anyway. "She couldn't take it, Al."

"Yeah, well, everyone's got their breaking point," he commented with just a touch too much apathy. "So what are you going to do?"

"Well, first, you check on Dirk, then...I guess I'll talk to the commander."

"What are you going to tell me - him?"

"I haven't worked it out that far yet," Sam admitted, "but if he's the only one who can help Beth, he's got to at least talk to her! Maybe he can get her to press charges."

Al's mind drifted back to the scene that first night in their bedroom, how controlling and hurtful Dirk had been. "There's still something we're missing," he murmured.

"What?"

Al fished around for a cigar. "I dunno. But there's still something we're not getting, something she's not saying. I mean," he continued, "we now know why she left the Navy, why she had her breakdown, and why she never left Dirk."

"Yeah..." Sam shrugged. "So what's left?"

"I'm not sure," Al confessed, lighting the cigar. "But if she's that...desperate not to be around me, but she's staying, then that must mean she's more afraid of San Diego than D.C."

"Okay," he conceded. "But I still don't see where we're leaving anything out."

Al narrowed one eye and peered at Sam. "Trust me, Sam, we are. And it's what drives her to kill herself."

Sam almost fell off the chair in shock. "What? Dirk kills her!" he protested.

"He may have hit her and beat her until she died, but she killed herself. I saw him with her and you didn't. She knew exactly what would get him off and what wouldn't. Which means she could not have pushed him that far without knowing it."

Sam exhaled heavily. "Al, this is so messed up."

"No argument on that one, kid. Just...don't let her die, Sam. Please, take care of her."

Sam wiped a hand across his jaw. "I'll do my best," he said quietly.

Al nodded. "It's always been good enough before."

August 1980

Laurel, MD

"Do you have a minute?"

Commander Calavicci looked up to see "Linny" in his doorway. "Tomorrow's Saturday so I guess I can't plead exhaustion from staying up into the wee hours."

Sam grimaced slightly and entered the room. Al was at his desk, stacks of papers forming a tall mountain range in front of him. "Bills?" he guessed.

"Divorce settlements," Al corrected. Sam winced. "Damn woman has to run me into the ground to be satisfied." He held the pen loosely in his hand, tracing idle circles on a piece of scratch paper.

"Sounds as if you're headed for rough waters."

Al laughed lightly, but there was no humor in the sound. "You didn't come here to shoot the breeze," he stated bluntly.

Sam swallowed and perched on the edge of the bed. Neither of them noticed Beth hovering in the doorway behind them. "No, I didn't," Sam admitted. "I came to ask for your help."

"Again."

Sam held back a sigh. "Yeah...again."

Al's jaw tightened. "With what?"

"Help me convince Beth to press charges."

He turned in surprise. "You mean she's not going to?"

"She's not planning to."

The pen shifted from one hand to the other. "She doesn't need me to tell her what to do. Sounds as if she's had too much of that lately, anyhow."

"She needs you, Commander."

"The hell she does!" he exploded. The pen fell to the desktop. "Like Ellie did? We pledged our lives to each other, too, and it didn't mean squat. Now she's gone!"

Another piece of the puzzle clicked for Sam, but he remained silent.

"And now," Al continued, his voice rising slightly in pitch and volume, "she wants everything I have!"

"Is it really Ellie you're angry at?"

"What?"

"I said," Sam said levelly, "is it really Ellie you're angry at?"

"Of course! Wouldn't you be?"

"Probably. But don't you think there's more to this than just a bitter divorce?"

"Who are you? Dear Abby?" Al sneered, turning back towards the desk.

Sam shook his head. "You can't do it," he said in amazement.

"I can't do what?"

"You can't be mad at her; you won't let yourself."

"I'm not mad at her," Al insisted stubbornly.

"Why won't you let yourself feel what you feel?" Sam pressed. "Why do you idealize her and then shut her out?"

"What are you **talking** about?"

Sam leaned forward. "Why are you denying it?"

"Because it's insane, that's why. It was five years ago."

"Are you saying she didn't hurt you?" Sam asked, still pushing his way in. So many years dealing with Al, he knew exactly how to do it.

Al's laugh was harsh. "Are you kidding me? She cut me so deep I still haven't stopped bleeding."

Still unnoticed, Beth withdrew from the door.

"So tell her."

"And what does this have to do with pressing charges against her no-account husband?"

"Because to turn her back on a life she's been living for over a decade, no matter how miserable that life was, is going to be hard."

He picked up the pen again, fingering the clip. "I thought she already did that by coming here."

"Physically, yes. I'm not so sure about emotionally." He paused. "She's still wearing your ring, Commander. On a chain around her neck." Sam couldn't tell exactly what Al's reaction meant, but it certainly was there. "She's clinging to it harder than to her own life." He put a hand on Al's wrist. "She needs you."

"Well I can't do this again," Al said, more calmly than Sam would have expected. The leaper pulled back his hand. "I'll help if I can and she's welcome to stay as long as she needs to, but I can't become emotionally entangled in this."

"Not even to save her life?"

"Don't do that," Al said angrily. "Don't make me responsible for her. Don't make me feel guilty."

"Why? Because you love her too much to give her any opportunity to hurt you again?"

He expected Al to get angry; it was actually what he was hoping for. Instead, the commander looked at him with bright eyes. "Exactly," he whispered. Then he let out a heavy breath and stood. "I need to get to sleep," he said, resting his hand on the knob.

Sam got up reluctantly and left the room, flinching when the door shut loudly behind him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. Two strangers living under the same roof...it was all too complicated.

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Al shook all over. Intentions or not, he was definitely entangled in this entire situation. Not exactly by choice, but not entirely against his will, either.

He sank weakly down on the bed and scrubbed at his face with both hands. Why did this have to happen to him?

Feeling sorry for himself was not only a futile exercise that wouldn't help, but it would also run him into the ground in the process. That, he knew. At first, he had thought of Beth's arrival as weakness and self pity. Part of him knew it wasn't true, but he thought it anyway. Now, he realized it was much, much more.

Her marriage to Dirk had not only destroyed him, but it had destroyed her, too. He recoiled from the part of him that felt an odd sense of satisfaction from that. What kind of selfish jerk was he?

He sat in front of the divorce papers for a few more moments, then suddenly and violently pushed the stacks of forms off the desk, watching them coat the carpeting with print and symbols he found revolting. It was...surrender. And he wasn't one to surrender.

But she had. More than once. Every time she had, Beth lost a piece of herself. Each time her name changed, the image of the person she was became a little more muddled.

He stood up abruptly and left the room. Linny must have been in the bathroom because she was nowhere to be seen. He walked silently down the hallway and pushed the guest bedroom door open a few more inches. Beth sat on the bed, her back to him. She was hugging her legs to her chest and rocking back and forth. Al couldn't tell if she was crying or not, but he turned and left the room as silently as he had come.

He had been right. He couldn't get involved.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

August 2000

Laurel, MD

Sam left the bathroom and went back into the guest room. He held out the wet washcloth he'd finally located for her.

"Why don't you lie down?" he suggested, moving to maneuver her into a sleeping position.

She curled into a fetal ball, her eyes lowering into half slits as she watched him tidy up the room.

"You going to tell me what happened?" Sam asked as he straightened some shirts.

"I just don't feel well tonight," Beth said quietly.

"You're **making** yourself sick," Sam corrected. She didn't respond. He sighed and closed another drawer. "Beth...how much longer is this going to continue? You have to know we can't stay here forever."

"I don't know what to do."

"Press charges," he urged.

She blinked. "I don't mean about Dirk," she clarified in a small voice.

Sam looked at her with sorrow. "I know. Talk to him."

"I – I can't."

Sam snapped off the overhead light and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving the small lamp on the night stand on. "You say you can't and he says he can't, but one of you has to."

She shivered. "I'm scared to."

He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it slowly. "I know you are. But don't you want to be free?"

A faint spark of longing burned in her eyes for an instant. "You're a good friend, Linny. But you can't help me with this, and I can't do it alone."

Sam held her hand with his free one. "Let him do it with you."

Beth curled up a little tighter. "I hurt him, Linny. I can't ever take that back again. I know what he's going through – I've felt it!"

"You made a mistake," Sam said calmly.

"One I can't fix. So I have to..." She fumbled.

"Pay for it?" he finished sadly.

Her eyes cleared. "Yes. Yes, that's it, exactly."

"You really think that's what he wants?"

"What who wants?" Al asked suddenly from beside him. He hadn't used the Imaging Chamber Door and he looked agitated – he must have just been checking up on Dirk's progress.

"It's the only way to pay him back. It's...the only thing I have to offer."

Al frowned. "Sam, what's she talking about?"

Sam cast Al a frustrated look. "So you're what? A human sacrifice? And for what?" Sam motioned to the hallway. "Do you think he's **enjoying** this? Do you think you're repaying him any of that potentially lost happiness?" Al was silent and somber.

She closed her eyes and her breath shook.

"Oh, Sam," Al breathed, leaning into to look at her. "What happened?"

"I just want him to be happy," she whispered. "He deserves to be happy. He deserves to have something work **right**."

"I know he does," Sam agreed quietly.

Al lowered to her level even though she couldn't see him. "What about you, Beth?" he questioned imploringly. "Don't you deserve to be happy?"

"What about you?" Sam echoed.

She made a gesture that could have been a shrug. "It doesn't matter. I sold my soul a long time ago."

"Beth, honey," Al said firmly, patiently, "you've got to trust someone, and if there's anyone you can trust, it's him. Believe me, I know."

"You can't think like that," Sam told her.

She shrugged.

"You've gone as far as you're going to get tonight, Sam," Al murmured. "The both of you need sleep. You can start again tomorrow. Come on out into the den and we can talk."

Sam let go of her hand and patted her once more on the arm. "Get some sleep. We'll talk again tomorrow." Beth didn't answer and Sam shut off the light and closed the door on her and Al. A second later, Al walked through it.

"Did something happen, Sam?" he asked, sounding tense and worried.

"I think so, but she won't tell me what." Sam sat on the couch. He was getting extremely tired of seeing the same four rooms of Al's apartment. "What about Dirk?"

"The nozzle's trying everything he knows, talking to anyone he can find even remotely associated with Linny or Beth, but, since neither of you told anyone where you were going, he's run across several dead ends."

"So there must be someone who told him..."

"Sure," Al agreed, "but I don't think it's anyone we can get to in time."

"What do you mean?" Sam's expression was very unhappy and almost matched the expression on Al's face.

"He's started talking to people in the Navy. Any number of people know where I am! Military paperwork leaves a trail of bread crumbs wherever it goes, Sam. If he's talked to enough people, he's figured out at least **who** she's with, if not where. And where is just a matter of time."

"I spoke with your counterpart tonight. I don't know yet how much good it did. I guess there's no way to tell until tomorrow."

"Anything in particular happening tomorrow?"

"Yes," Sam replied in firm determination. "Tomorrow we're pressing charges and getting a restraining order."

August 2000

Laurel, MD

Sam was up early the following morning. And, it seemed, he was the first one awake, too. That suited him just fine. It also allowed him to take advantage of the fact that he slept on the couch. Chivalry had demanded that Al offer his bed, but Sam had quickly refused, if for no other reason than his accurate prediction that both Al and Beth would need some neutral ground to retreat to.

Sam occupied himself by fixing breakfast.

Al appeared first, lured by the smell of coffee brewing. He paused when he saw "Linny" making herself at home in his kitchen. "Finding everything all right?" Al asked with forced amusement.

Sam grinned. "I manage."

Al took a bite of the omelet in front of him. "Ever think of taking cooking lessons?"

Sam sighed in frustration. "I do what my mother used to do. I just can't figure why it never works."

"Too bland," Al muttered, swinging around to the other side of the counter. He seemed overly intent on focusing on the cooking, especially when Beth emerged, sleep still clinging to her. Al smiled slightly. "You never were much of a morning person," he said before he realized it.

She looked up, startled, then withdrew a step.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Sam asked.

She hesitated. "Better."

"Good. Then come on and get something to eat," he replied. "It's gonna be a long day."

She tensed. "Why? What are we doing?"

Al just watched without comment.

Sam took a step forward and pulled out a chair. She didn't move. "We're pressing charges."

"Oh...oh, Linny, no..."

Al closed his eyes for an instant, as if holding a rapid internal debate. "Beth..." Her head whipped around so fast Sam feared for the condition of her neck. Al had her complete attention – maybe this was going to work after all. "Maybe you should listen to her. It's pretty obvious things are..." He trailed off at her expression.

"I – I can't."

"Why?" Sam asked. "Do you have a reason anymore, Beth?"

She looked back and forth between them, a trapped look flashing in her eyes.

Sam backed up a step, but Al walked around the counter towards her. Sam watched in amazement as he stood in front of her. "Don't use me as an excuse to let that bastard get away with this." Al's eyes were deep with sorrow. "What are you continually punishing yourself for?" He reached up to touch the fading bruise on her face, but she jerked backwards. He lowered his hand and let her back away, recover herself. "Yeah, I remember that," he murmured quietly. "Thinkin' that every time someone touches you, they're gonna hurt you." He exhaled heavily. "And knowing you're wrong, but not being able to help yourself." He leaned forward again and traced her wrist lightly with one fingertip, as if to prove a point or maybe just to caress her. "I remember," he repeated, then turned and retreated to his room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she released the breath she'd been holding and hugged herself tightly. Sam just looked curiously towards the closed door. He wasn't quite sure he'd call what he just witnessed "progress", but perhaps in some bizarre way, it was. Maybe some good could come out of their respective situations. Maybe it gave them enough in common that they could heal the loneliness in each other.

Before Sam could say anything, the door opened and Al exited again, much to the leaper's shock. He was tucking his wallet into his back pocket. "Come on," he said, "let's do this."

Sam grinned, then turned to Beth. She bit her lip, but Al wasn't pushing. He waited patiently as she reevaluated the whole situation. This would, at the very least, be an indicator of how much of a rut she was still stuck in.

"You're coming?" she asked of Al after a lengthy pause.

He tilted his chin up slightly. "If you want me to. If it'll be easier." His voice lowered. "If you'll try not to be afraid of me."

For an instant, it looked as if she would cry. Then she just nodded and Al scooped up his car keys readily.

August 2000

Laurel, MD

For the length of the day, whether they were standing in another line or filling out one of many endless forms, Al stayed by her side as if afraid to leave her. As the hours rolled on, a new tension began to build up between them and Sam wasn't sure it was a positive one. Although Al stayed true to his word and did his best to help her and although she still seemed to need him there, to need his constant consent on what she was doing, things started to change. With each signature that read "Elizabeth Simon", Al became that much more distant.

Where one wall had crumbled, another had sprung up in its place.

They hadn't hit the homestretch yet, Sam realized with bleak discernment. They hadn't even hit the climax of the situation. That pent-up anger and hurt Al was holding back was going to come rushing out at some point and, although Sam knew it would be a good thing for Al, he worried how far it would push Beth before things improved. He simply doubted she would be able to handle it.

Al was probably thinking along the same lines because he was fighting to hide it. Beth, completely caught up in the personal metamorphosis she was trying to work her way through, never saw it. Sam, who knew even this Al almost as well as himself, felt it could not have been any more obvious if it was being broadcasted.

By the time they returned home, Al was answering everything in one-word sentences and Beth was closing back up on herself.

"So now what?" Al asked of Sam as Beth entered the apartment. It was already beginning to get dark out.

"Now we have a legal basis to get the guy taken care of."

"He's a lawyer - they're all slippery nozzles. He knows how to work the system. He's going to bail himself out if he can, you know?" Al pointed out, a touch angry.

"Maybe. We've gotta keep an eye on her for the next few days."

Al put his palms against the railing outside his front door. His apartment was on the second floor and he looked down at the complex's token effort at gardening. "I think this is as far as I go."

Sam was startled. "This is only the beginning," he explained. "I mean, I'll have to go home soon and she won't be safe in Seattle."

Al's hands tightened on the rail. "It's not that I don't want to help," he clarified, a bit impatiently. "It's that I don't think I **can**."

Sam frowned. "She could stay in-"

"I'm not talking about logistics," Al countered, swinging to face Sam. "I'm talking about **me**. And** her**." He jerked his head in the direction she'd gone. "I love her so much - I can't sleep knowing she's there, nearby and all I can think about is when I get up and see her. Then it hurts too much to be near her; every second is a reminder of...things." One hand released the rail and clenched into a fist. "It's tearing my life right open and I just can't do this anymore." He sighed heavily. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"You're going to have to talk to her about this eventually," Sam said calmly.

"No!" He waved a hand in her general direction. "You see her! You see her around me!" He shook his head. "It won't work. It** can't** work."

"Al, you've got to make it work."

Al rubbed a hand across his face. "It can't go on indefinitely," he stated, then turned and followed Beth inside.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Sam stood outside after Al departed, staring at the sky, wondering how to make them talk to each other. Without resorting to tying anyone up.

"How's it goin', Sam?" the hologram asked suddenly beside him.

Sam jumped. He turned to face his partner, who had an expression that told Sam he knew **exactly** how it was going. "We made some progress, but then we lost a lot of ground. Fast."

"Well, it's not gonna all just fall into place..."

"I know." Sam sighed dramatically. "But I just wish you weren't so stubborn." He smirked. "Both of you."

"You have no appreciation of winning personality."

"Yeah," Sam muttered with little humor. "Do we have anything new, Al?"

"Dirk's bought a plane ticket," Al said, his voice low with anger.

Sam looked up and could see the images saturating his friend's memory. "We'll change it, don't worry."

"I hope so."

Sam looked at him with sympathy. "We will," he repeated firmly. "When is Dirk's flight coming in?"

Al pressed a colored button and the handlink lit up like a Christmas Tree. "Ziggy's still accessing the data, but we think it's sometime Monday evening."

"And where specifically is she killed?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'll find out by tomorrow."

Sam glanced sidelong at his friend. "You gonna be okay, Al?"

He wiped his chin with his palm, only just noticing the stubble there. "I'll live." The words were laced with heavy irony.

Sam was at a loss. There was no way to help the admiral until Monday and, until then, all of them were just going to have to tough it out. Sam stared out into the night chill. "Al, you, well, he said something this morning to Beth that made me wonder."

"What's that?"

Sam screwed his face into a hesitant expression. "I wonder if...I mean, I think Dirk may have..." He fumbled, not wanting to say it out loud. "I mean, I never really thought of it before then, but it only makes sense that they would go hand-in-hand..."

For a moment, there was a blank look on Al's face, followed by realization and then an intense rage he just barely controlled. "Ask her."

"Al, I don't-"

"Ask her!" Al repeated fiercely. "Because** I** want to know if he did that to her."

"Geez, calm down, all right?" He'd been around Beth too long – Al's focused anger was starting to make him uncomfortable and maybe even a tad skittish.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Sam! You get that jerk and **then** I'll calm down!"

This had been a while in coming, Sam realized, and perhaps it was just best that Al get it out of his system now. "I don't know for sure, it's just the way she acts when you're around her as opposed to 'Linny' or-"

"I don't care, Sam, I really don't. It's bad enough that he beat up on her, but if he did this, too..." The cigar was slowly crushed in his fist. "I hope he gets what he's got coming to him."

Sam wasn't completely certain he wanted to know what Al thought Dirk deserved and he didn't ask. "Just don't lose focus of her," Sam reminded him carefully. As he had hoped, that subdued the admiral.

"Yeah. Sam, I'm gonna go see if I can speed Ziggy up on that ETA."

Sam smiled at the unspoken reminder. "I won't let her out of my sight."

He waited for the Imaging Chamber Door to shut before entering the apartment and locking the door behind him. He was just about ready to go to bed when Al's bedroom door opened and he crept out, double checked the locks, and turned to go back to his room.

"I already locked it," Sam said. His voice stood out in the silence and Al jumped. _Serves him right. Advance payment for all the times he's gonna do it to me years down the road._

"I thought you were in bed."

"Almost."

Al gestured awkwardly to the door, a touch of embarrassment on his face. "Old habits," he explained. At Sam's questioning glance he leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. "When we first married, Beth would never lock the front door. I could never figure it out because she was always so compulsive about it when she had her own place. Even if she came to bed after me, though, she'd never lock the doors." He smiled a little. "Used to irritate the hell outta me, to tell you the truth. Then I finally figured it out."

Curious despite himself, Sam shrugged. "So why'd she do it?"

He shifted his weight. "Well, I never did come out and ask her, but I think it was her...need to be reminded on a daily basis that I cared enough for her to worry about her safety."

A slow grin spread across Sam's face. "It's nice to know you still worry, Commander."

He raised an eyebrow. "About her? I never stopped." His eyes glittered in the dim lighting as he stared at Sam. Then he shook his head with a small smile. "G'nite, Linny."

"'Nite, Al."

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Sunday. One day closer.

Beth had been in bed all morning, laid up with whatever physical ailments were plaguing her. Sam wondered if it meant she was starting to have serious doubts about what she had done. Repeatedly, he tried to examine her, but, in Beth's eyes, Linny was just a student with no medical knowledge. And she was probably right - **Linny** was. Beth, on the other hand, had vast amounts of experience in the field of nursing. No matter how much he pressed, she brushed him off.

He had a feeling he wouldn't find anything, anyway.

Extreme emotional and mental stress often manifested itself within physical symptoms, and Beth was **definitely** under stress.

Al was working with the divorce settlements at the kitchen table and Sam was reading on the couch when she emerged, looking small and tired. Sam sat up immediately. "Beth. How do you feel?"

"Better," she replied, sitting in the space he made for her next to himself. "Still a touch dizzy, but..." She glanced at Al's back as he sat at the table, never ceasing his calculations. "I'll live."

Sam smiled hopefully at her. "Can I get you some juice or crackers?"

"Juice would be nice, thank you."

Sam retrieved a glass. "So are you up to facing Dirk, Beth?"

She looked distinctly more unsettled with each passing second. "I was talking to an officer yesterday at the station," Beth said, pointedly avoiding the question, "and he said I should go to a lawyer on Monday and file for divorce."

Sam handed her the drink. "Do you think he's wrong?" She hesitated. "Beth," Sam said, sitting back down to her right, "you pressed charges and all but have a restraining order against him. Divorce can only help your case and help you. How much angrier do you think he's going to get? You're safe here - take advantage of that."

"But I don't **feel** safe," she stressed, her fingers turning white against the glass. "How come I can't feel it?"

"You won't let yourself."

"Then I don't know how," she cried, frustrated.

Sam put a hand on her arm, noting the involuntary wince as he did so. "Beth, did he rape you?"

Al had been so quiet that Sam had forgotten he was in the room, or he probably would have waited to ask the question. Now Al turned in his seat, staring at her with a look he couldn't identify.

"We - we were married," she stammered.

"That doesn't matter," he countered, taking heart from her use of past tense.

"No. He didn't." Sam wasn't sure he believed her.

Al didn't seem to, either. "You mean he did that?" he said, gesturing fiercely.

"Al, calm down, okay?" Sam said as soothingly as he could.

"I said, 'No'!" Beth cried, unexpectedly, rising to her feet. "What, am I a liar now on top of it all?"

"Beth, you know I didn't mean-"

She turned to go out the front door but, before Sam could cry his protest, Al had grabbed her arm.

"Don't run away!" he commanded.

"Why not? It's all I've got!"

"And that's **why**," he continued, releasing her arm when he saw panic growing in her eyes. "If you stopped for ten seconds to stand up for who you are, maybe you wouldn't have to run anymore."

"What about yesterday?" She shook her head, blinking back tears. "What was that? Running?"

"No." Al's voice was suddenly quiet. "But don't lose that ground, Beth." She shivered and he swallowed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, almost too low for Sam to hear. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry I hurt you."

The tension grew until Sam was certain she had to either cry or scream. "Excuse me," she choked out, "I have to go splash some cold water on my face." She practically ran from the room.

Al sighed loudly. "Blew another one," he muttered and retreated to his own room. It was starting to become a distressingly familiar scene - each hiding from the other and from themselves. But Sam wasn't so sure Al had blown it.

One thing was certain, though: the hurt was building within the commander and Sam knew the pressure cooker would blow soon. He just hoped they would all survive when it did.

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

_Linny was sobbing. All around them people filed about, going to or from places which all seemed so alien. Al stood perfectly still, draining all emotion from his pale features, straining to feel through the numbness just enough to remain standing and nothing else._

Admiral Calavicci emptied the glass and considered it momentarily. He wouldn't get drunk, even now, but the thought certainly crossed his mind. That in and of itself was enough to urge him to dump the rest of the bottle's contents down the sink. The glass he'd just finished was the last bit of alcohol he had in his quarters.

"_Commander, if you'll come with us..." _

"_Where are we going?" _

"_We need someone to identify the body."_

Maybe he should find Verbena. Maybe he should help Sam, on second thought. Every second he sat in misery and dejection in his quarters, Monday drew another second closer,

_She was so beautiful._

and so did the hour of her death.

Al lay his head down on the table, letting the cool surface send a chill down his spine. It felt good - Ziggy always kept things too hot in the office level.

The next thing he knew, time had shifted. And history had shifted with it.

Al's initial sense of panic was derived from the fact that he thought he'd slept through it all. The muddled confusion history changes always caused often left him disoriented. As the feeling wore off, he realized if he had fallen asleep **someone** would have come looking for him when he didn't show up. Paranoia still demanded he check the time. It was early afternoon in Sam's time - close, but not too late.

Something had changed.

"_Beth! Don't die, dammit!"_

Something was wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Sam paced. Al came home early, for which he was extremely grateful, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go incredibly wrong.

"Did you go to the lawyer's today?" Al asked as he came out of the bedroom. He was still in uniform.

"No," Sam replied, his anxiety almost tangible.

"Hey, Linny, you okay?" At Sam's puzzled glance, Al clarified, "I thought you were the one who insisted that we get these divorce proceedings on the road."

"Yeah, but-"

"Linny?" Beth was silent when she saw Al.

"What?" Sam asked. He felt suddenly very tired.

"He called me."

"What?" Sam demanded. He'd been home all day. "Dirk? When?"

"Just before Al came home, when you stepped outside," she replied anxiously. "He told me if I didn't go to San Diego with him, he'd kill me."

Something made Sam wonder if she was lying, but she seemed to be truly fearful and that doubt was quickly laid to rest.

"Go to San Diego?" Al asked. He turned to Sam. "What's she talking about?"

"I really don't know," Sam replied honestly.

"It's something Dirk wanted me to do," Beth answered hurriedly.

Al tensed. "What?"

"He was busy with work and all and so we couldn't do it in June like he'd wanted to..."

"**What**?" Al pressed.

"We..." She stopped again, looking at Sam in a silent cry for support. "He wanted us to go back to the church we were married in. He wanted us to renew - our marriage vows."

Suddenly, Sam understood. Having already betrayed Al once, she couldn't live with herself to do it again. So she hadn't. She'd let him kill her instead. She died over the implications of a symbol, for the only man she loved.

Al didn't seem to see it that way, at least, not at first glance. He paled and backed up a step. "Marriage vows," he echoed in hollow tones.

Sam knew the look in his eyes too well. "Al..." he started but one look from the commander silenced him.

Al turned and left the apartment, his pace increasing with every step until he was at a full run. He almost fell down the stairs as he ran out onto the lawn. Beth went after him, Sam on her heels.

"Al!" she was screaming. He stopped in the middle of the lawn and bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "Al, wait!"

He bowed his head and, as they drew closer, Sam could see him shaking.

"Sam!" Admiral Calavicci shouted over the commotion, appearing suddenly to Sam's right. "Sam, you gotta-"

"Al, please!"

He brushed her off, the pain evident in his eyes. "Please, Beth, just leave me alone. I can't - process this now. Just-"

"I wasn't going to go. Al! You've got to believe me!" She took a step forward, and then retreated again, uncertain of how to react to him.

"Sam! Dammit, listen to me!"

"It's not that. Beth, please don't do this to me. Don't ask me this."

"I'm sorry! Al, please, I love you!"

Both Sam and his observer froze at the words, but the commander straightened and turned to her. There were tears in his eyes, glistening on his cheeks. "And you left me," he said flatly, but his voice gained various levels of volume and accusation as he went. This steam had been waiting to be released for a long time and they all knew there was no stopping it now, so nobody tried. "You gave up on me! You left me for dead!" His breath shook whenever he stopped for it. "And I survived. I did it because I loved you and I didn't want to abandon you.** I** was the one with barely enough hope to live through another day because I was in so much pain it hurt to breathe." Absently, he wiped at one eye. "Thinking of you kept me alive. Loving you gave me faith and hope and reason to keep going.** I** didn't want to give up on us! You lost faith, Beth, not me. **You** did!"

"I know," she whispered, horror on her face.

Al fell to his knees in the grass, his whole form trembling, oblivious to the display he was creating. "Dammit, Beth, why did you do it?"

She was crying now. "I'm sorry..."

"You tore my heart out. How could you? How could you even doubt me? How could you betray me?"

"Don't," the admiral whispered and Sam turned to him.

"How could you? You broke my heart..." Al buried his face in his hands, trying to regain whatever shreds of control he could grasp.

Beth stood alone, exposed and shaking. "Al..."

Sam reached for her, but she stepped out of range, a trapped, horrified look on her face. She ran away from him, from them both, back into the complex and the hologram jolted out of his trance. "Sam, stop her!"

Sam had begun moving towards the man on the ground in front of him, but abruptly shifted tracks without stopping to question why, and ran after her, calling repeatedly to her. She stumbled up the stairs, barely seeing them through her tears. Desperately, she clawed at the doorknob and fell inside, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Commander Calavicci wept in a small huddle by himself.

"Sam, you gotta get in there!" Al cried as Sam launched himself up the stairs. His desperate tone was starting to put Sam on edge.

"What's wrong?" Sam gasped as he swung up onto the second level. The door was locked. The commander, rising from his knees in the lawn, was only just starting to realize something was going on.

"Everything's wrong. Sam, break the door down!"

Sam kicked at it repeatedly, then threw his weight at it, all the while trying to block out Al's frantic urgings. The hinges groaned and the door opened slightly. The leaper looked at it in dismay. "She put something in front of the door. Something heavy." What if she was going to harm herself, or worse? "Al, what-"

Then Beth screamed.

"What's going on?" the commander asked in a not-quite steady voice as he came up from behind Sam.

"No," Sam whispered in shock, "it can't be..."

"It is!" the hologram yelled. "Sam, you gotta get in there." While Sam turned to the commander, Al centered in on her.

They were in the den next to the couch Sam had slept on for the past week. Dirk had one arm around her waist and a hand over her mouth and he threw her down on the floor just as Al appeared.

"You've got to fight for yourself, baby!" Al cried as Dirk stood over her. "Don't give up!"

"I can't do it, Dirk, I **can't**," she gasped out, leaning back on her elbows. "I can't betray him again. I won't!"

"You're not going to redeem yourself now, Beth." He grabbed her forearm roughly, pulling her to her feet. Al stood right beside her.

"Beth, honey, just lie to him. Tell him you'll go - it doesn't matter. Don't die for me!"

She had stopped crying, but now a few more tears slipped free.

"Why did you leave me?" Dirk asked almost gently. He put his hands at the base of her neck and clenched tightly. Beth didn't make a sound. "Well, Elizabeth? Why'd you do it?"

"I had to!" She sounded tortured and desperate. But not quite ready to give up yet.

Dirk slapped her and the sounds of her sobs were an unpleasant undertone to Al's protest. "He's **dead**! He died the day you married me."

"No," Beth retorted with surprising strength. "That's when he started to live again."

Al wasn't certain whether to cheer on her spunk or fear for her safety.

"He's dead! And the sooner you get that, the better off you'll be." He shoved her against the wall and kissed her roughly. "I'm the only person in this world who loves you. I'm the only one who could."

She seemed about to accept what he was telling her and Al stepped directly in front of her, staring past her tearstained face, looking deeply into her eyes. "I love you, Beth. Even when I yelled out there this afternoon, I still loved you. Even when I came home and you were gone, I still cared more for you than you'll ever know. I always loved you."

Beth spit in Dirk's face.

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Al joined Sam in his efforts to push the door open, but neither seemed to be having much luck. Whatever Dirk had moved in front of the door was heavy and it wouldn't budge.

Al turned to him. "Go get help," he urged, trying to push Sam in the direction of the stairs.

"No," Sam retorted.

"Linny, don't argue!"

Sam hesitated in the face of what almost seemed like a sexist attitude, but there was no time for a debate and Sam had to admit to himself that he would have done the same thing had he been in Al's position.

"Sam! Ya gotta hurry!"

"Al?" Sam said reflexively.

The commander didn't stop in his attempts to look at him. "Yeah, go! He could be hurting her in there!"

"He is," the hologram cried in near panic. "Just go get help, Sam. You've got to find some way to get into there."

"Stay with her," Sam told him, as if he needed to be urged. Then he put a hand on the commander's arm. "You've got to hurry," he said, then turned, went to the closest apartment, and started banging on doors.

August 1980

Laurel, MD

She couldn't feel much anymore. All she knew was that there were things worth dying for. And now that she'd found that out, she already felt liberated.

Beth struggled back to her feet, but he knocked her to the floor again. It would be better, in the long run, to stay there. He was doing more screaming than kicking, but there was definitely pain. A dark wave was beginning to crash over her vision as bright flecks scattered across her eyes. Everything went hazy, then black, then hazy again.

Then she heard someone calling her name.

"Beth! Beth, are you okay?" Someone was banging on the door, trying to get in. "Beth, answer me!"

"Al?" she whispered.

Ever since she'd met Dirk, he'd been controlling and possessive. She just hadn't seen it - she'd been blinded by her need for stability and support. And hope. But from his need to control Jake until he'd chased the detective away to his pressing her to have Al declared dead so quickly after meeting her, he'd been controlling her.

If nothing else, she was going to die on her own terms.

"Al!" she called out, her voice cut off with a cry of pain as Dirk hauled her back to her feet.

"Hang on, Beth! Just hang on!"

She cried out to him again, but there was no response.

Then Dirk hit her full in the face. She spun and hit the wall hard, feeling blood from her nose and mouth.

"He's dead, Beth. If you can't handle that reality, I'll give you tangible proof," Dirk said, his voice low and threatening.

As she slid down the wall, the world faded and everything went blissfully black.

The very next thing she remembered was opening her eyes to see Dirk pushing the shelving out from in front of the door. It was only a quarter of the way clear when a terrible crash echoed through the small room.

She felt hands on her arms and she blinked rapidly, trying to see, to move. The hands released her and she pushed herself into a sitting position. There were noises like a scuffle and then she forced focus and direction back into her mind. When her vision cleared, she saw someone standing over her. No, not over her - in front of her. Dirk stood in front of him, several dark bruises growing on his face. And a knife in his hand.

Beth reached out blindly. "Al?"

He spun and Dirk lunged. Before Al could recover his concentration, Dirk swiped at him and sharp steel met with soft flesh, cutting a line along Al's forearm as he reached out reflexively. The damage was already done, so Al leaned into the swing and knocked Dirk's hand back. The knife fell to the floor, the blade stained red. Al backed off to give himself a few seconds' recovery time, but Dirk regained his balance in the meantime.

Beth looked up, saw the sleeve of Al's uniform marred with a slow spreading stain, and something else clicked for her.

Still dizzy, she grabbed the knife and pulled herself to her feet. "Stop!" The word came out in a shrill whistle and she gripped the handle of the weapon tightly. "Dirk, stop it!" She clumsily stood in front of him. "Don't hurt him."

Dirk's eyes widened, then he relaxed and grinned. "Why? You already cut him open, didn't you?"

Al reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to draw her back without endangering her. "Beth, don't listen to him."

"It's true," she whispered, too low for either man to hear.

"You hurt him and he'll never forgive you for what you've done."

Al pulled slightly on her. "Beth, ignore him! Just give me the knife - you're going to get yourself hurt."

Dirk took a step closer. "You'll have to live with that forever." He almost had her. "And when I kill him, it'll be on your hands."

It was the wrong thing to say.

With a cry that could have been physical or emotional anguish, she rushed him and Al lost his grip on her. The blade grazed Dirk's cheek, but he recovered quickly, grabbing the wrist he'd caused injury to seven days prior, forcing her to release the knife. Before he could gain a firm enough hold on her, Al yanked Beth backwards and she tumbled to the carpeting behind him.

Dirk had just adjusted to having the upper hand and Al took advantage of this, surprising him as he delivered a blow to his windpipe that stunned him. Al backed him up against the wall, his arm across the man's throat. He applied pressure until Dirk's every thought was how to continue to draw breath, then he put his face right up to his opponent's.

"This," he emphasized, "is for every time you hit her. And," he continued, adding more and more force with each point, "for using me against her. And for every time you ever made her cry." The front door scraped open and Sam tumbled in. The leaper stood in shock at the scene. "And this," Al snarled, pushing Dirk's chin up, "is just because I really,** really** hate lawyers." He moved back abruptly and Dirk's gasping for air filled the room. As soon as he straightened, Al smiled, then threw two punches, one with each fist, to his jaw and he went down at Al's feet, unconscious.

"Al," Sam said into the resounding silence, "how did you get in here?"

Al pointed to the sliding glass door, shattered from the impact of a chair. "I climbed up from the balcony below us," he answered.

Sam took a step into the room. "What did you do?" he asked, noticing the bloodstain on Al's sleeve.

He looked down at his arm. "Oh... It stings a bit and it looks bad, but he just broke the skin." He smiled wearily.

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered hoarsely from behind him and he turned to see her kneeling on the floor, shivering uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she said again and again like a mantra.

Al seemed to forget about "Linny" and he went down on one knee in front of Beth. He put a hand on each arm, but she pulled back. "Let go," she whispered shakily.

"No," he said gently but firmly. "I'm not letting you go." She tried to pull free, but he held on. "Look at me, Beth." She obeyed after a moment. "Listen close because I'm only going to say this once." They sat there, suspended for an instant as mirror images of each other, breaths fast and desperate, eyes locked on each other. His gaze softened. "I forgive you."

She trembled, then tentatively put a hand on his arm. He pulled her against him as the dam broke loose. "I love you," he whispered, then closed his eyes and touched her head with one hand and held her carefully with the other as she cried softly into his shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

August 1980

Laurel, MD

Al just rocked her slowly for a long time, each emotion and each touch cautious and soothing. In the meantime, Sam called the police and Dirk remained unconscious where he'd fallen. Al had obviously hit him pretty hard, and Sam couldn't find it within himself to find even pity for Dirk Simon.

"You know what?" Beth asked Al after a while.

He buried his face in her hair. "What, baby?"

"You still smell the same." He laughed lightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." He pulled her closer. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Sam suspected he may have been, but she shook her head against his shoulder and nestled deeper into his embrace.

"I don't ever want to hurt you," he whispered.

After Beth had exhausted herself, Al picked her up and put her on the couch. Then he sat next to her and held her hand while they waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive. Sam stood off to the side, watching as Al intertwined his fingers with hers and held on tightly. She was obviously in pain, but the admiral hadn't said much, so he assumed it wasn't life-threatening. Al leaned in towards her and whispered something in her ear. Sam smiled to himself; he knew from firsthand experience that Al could be awfully reassuring when he wanted to be.

"Is she gonna be okay, Al?" Sam asked of the hologram to his left.

"Ziggy says she should be fine, but you'll need to take her to the hospital so they can check the baby."

Sam gaped. "B-baby?" he repeated, astonished. "You mean she's-"

"Four weeks," Al confirmed. "I thought you'd figured it out by now."

"That's why she was always feeling sick," Sam said in realization.

"Exactly."

"Does she know?"

"No, not yet, but she will after tonight."

"So do you two remarry?" Sam ventured, asking what he had been wanting to ask for the past ten minutes.

"No. Too much had gone on." He looked past Sam at the woman lying on the couch, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "But she did stay in the area, across town, until she had her baby." He smiled slightly at the memory. "A girl. She named her Angela. Then, a few months after that, she went back to San Diego."

"Really?" Sam asked, pleased.

"Yeah, and in two years, she got back into nursing."

"That's fantastic. What about you, Al?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in ironic amusement. "I skipped a couple of marriages. From there on out is pretty much the same. We did keep in touch, though. And she's happy, Sam."

Sam allowed himself a long sigh. "So...we ready to go?"

"Looks that way," Al agreed. "The police'll be here in under five minutes and everything works out fine. Dirk gets fifty years, by the way, for two counts of attempted murder, breaking and entering, and abuse." He muttered something in Italian, then added, "Better than he deserved, if you ask me."

Sam nodded, then waited for several seconds. "Al, I'm not leaping."

"What?" the commander asked.

"Oh, uh..." Sam took several hesitant steps forward. "Are you okay?" he asked, indicating both of them in his question.

Beth smiled faintly. "I'll be fine, thanks, Linny. For everything. You've been a wonderful friend."

Sam nodded at her. "You know. Beth...I was thinking and... Why don't you stay here for-"

"Nine months," the admiral put in.

"-A while. Just while things get moving and you get, you know, settled."

"Oh, I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Beth began, but Al squeezed her hand, smiling tenderly at her.

"Stay," he said simply.

"Here?"

He kissed the hand he held. "I have an extra room. Please stay."

"Sam..." the hologram said in astonished tones. "This is incredible. You changed history."

"Thank you," Beth whispered.

"Now, Beth and I get married in a year and a half. I propose to her the day her daughter is born. Oh, and get this, Sam, now she doesn't name her Angela." He looked up from the 'link. "She names her Lily. And when Lily turns 18, she takes my last name."

Sam grinned.

"Thanks, Sam," Al said quietly, and Sam leaped.

March 2000

Stallions Gate, NM

"What's wrong with Ziggy?" Beth asked him as he came down the ramp from the Imaging Chamber.

Al stopped and looked at her. "Beth?"

"Yeah. Did you guys fix Ziggy okay?"

"She wasn't...broken..." he fumbled uncertainly. Some part of him, though he had read the history off to Sam, still expected to come back to his own time and see things just as he'd left them.

"You okay, Al?" He nodded numbly. Then he realized he hadn't moved from the top of the ramp and he took several hesitant steps down it. "So what was all that you were babbling about this morning?"

_Uh..._ "Oh, there was a problem, but it was nothing."

She raised her eyebrows. "Nothing?" Obviously, his ranting had made it seem like a very big 'something'.

He forced out a grin. "Yeah, nothing. As in none, nada, zero, zip."

She looked carefully at him, then a slow smile spread across her face. "You forgot 'zilch'," she said mischievously.

He laughed. "You little devil," he teased, reaching for her.

He wanted to touch her so badly.

She didn't flinch at his touch, didn't pull away. Instead, she laughed with him and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him lightly.

He clung to her and then, finally, the memories came.

"_You know, Al, it's a speed limit, not a speed suggestion."_

"_Stop talking and breathe," Al replied, cutting off two more cars in one fell swoop._

_She started to laugh, but another contraction took hold and the sound was compressed into a small whimper. Al glanced worriedly at her. "Drive," she ordered him between heavy breaths. "I'm not gonna have this baby in your car, I promise."_

_He hit the gas a little harder, anyway._

_Beth was right that they didn't need to worry - she delivered the baby five hours later. After the commotion, the testing, not to mention the actual birth, they were both grateful for the first moment alone the doctors gave them._

_Beth laid in the hospital bed, completely exhausted, the newborn cradled in her arms. Al stood beside her._

"_What's her name?" Al asked softly._

_Beth kissed her daughter and smiled softly. "Lily. Lily Kathleen Ingalls."_

"_Lily," Al repeated, touching Beth's face gently. "She's beautiful. Takes after her mother."_

"_Do you want to hold her?"_

_Al hesitated, an almost shy expression on his face. He'd refused the chance to hold her in the delivery room and so she'd been passed directly to her mother._

"_Come on," Beth urged._

_Al picked her up and held her in his arms, mesmerized by the two large brown eyes that stared at his every movement. "She's...geez, she's really trusting, isn't she?"_

_Beth laughed. "What choice does she have?" He smiled faintly and stared at Lily for several more minutes, seeming to forget Beth was even in the room. She watched Al's face intently for several seconds and then reached out a hand and rested it against Al's hip, drawing him closer. He sat down in the chair beside the bed. "I need to talk to you," she said quietly._

_Al tore his attention away from Lily's tiny face to look at Beth. "What is it?"_

_She touched Lily's head lovingly. "I was hoping... Will you be her father, Al?"_

_His eyes glistened with tears and he swallowed. "If you'll be my wife."_

Al's memory shifted to a day years later when Lily had come to him in confusion and asked him if he was her real father. He'd sat her on his lap, taken her small hand in his, and stared into her eyes. Yes, he did see some of himself there, too.

"Listen to me, sweetheart," he'd told her gently, "I adore you and I adore your mother. I was there the day you were born and I'll be there for you as long as I'm able. And I love you. So, yes, I am your real father."

Al hugged Beth tightly. It was late and night would be falling several stories above them. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked her.

She pulled back and flashed a familiar smile. "I'd love to."

He gazed quietly at her. "I love you," he said as they exited the building and went out into the desert night underneath a canopy of stars.


End file.
